


Jemma Simmons is not a Prude

by RRGrokesyn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dominance, F/F, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RRGrokesyn/pseuds/RRGrokesyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Jemma Simmons is not a prude. Skye glances at the wall clock – it's not melting, but it doesn’t make it less surreal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bringin’ all the girls to the yard

**Author's Note:**

> There are several warnings to this story that you should know before you proceed – read them carefully, or you might regret continuing.
> 
> First of all, this story is planned to be highly explicit, and gay. I’m serious, like, Orange-is-the-new-Black gay and explicit. There are lesbian girls, they will have sex and I won’t spare a word if I need it to refrain from upsetting people. On the same category of warnings, this is not a fluff – not even close: there’s a handful of dominance and there are selfish people that’ll take advantage of situations.
> 
> Secondly, this story is unbetaed and unrevised – I’m going with the flow intentionally here. The reason for that is a resolution I had yesterday, when I looked at all the projects that are half done because I spent all my energy polishing them. I genuinely have more than fifty unpublished chapters of stories that I dropped in the middle because they “weren’t polished enough” – completely frustrating. So I decided that I’m going to do it differently now: I’m going to write it all up and you guys tell me if it’s worth taking care of rough edges.
> 
> Finally, I twisted Skye a bit – it was a conscious decision. When the story started to brew in my head, it was actually a male character (one of my original ones), who’s much more serious, and brooding, than Skye. However, original characters are complicated, you have to do a much more complete build up and it still doesn’t stick too well in people’s heads.  
> So, at this point, you might wonder: why don’t you use Ward? Of course I could use Ward, the thing is that I don’t want to. I’m a BIG Skimmons fan and, if I write AoS fanfics, it’ll always be Skimmons. So Simmons/Ward fans, if you exist, sorry – no doughnut for you.
> 
> If you can bear with all those warnings, I hope you have fun – I certainly did!

Jemma Simmons is not a prude. Jemma Simmons is not a prude… really, no matter how many times Skye repeats that in her head, even including some very vivid memory proofs, it still sounds surreal. She taps her pen nervously and bites her lower lip unconsciously. Memories. Sweaty, naked memories. Her gaze lowers and she finds herself reliving it – damn, arousal spike, she thought as the hot fluid reached her knickers. So, where’s the nearest toilet…

“Ms. Skye”, a suited businessman, whom she’d forgotten completely about – even though he was right in front of her – calls.

“Yes, yes – sorry, I had a long night”, quite literally, “you were sayin’...”

“No problem, happens to the best of us”, he offers back, “so, I was going through…”, she looks into the man’s eyes, nodding and smiling at proper moments, but not a single word is etched into her brain. Oh, well.

“Sounds good!”, she claps her hands her hands together, wanting to solve more… urgent matters that were soaking her only pair of underwear for the rest of the day.

“So, now that this is settled, let’s go through the plan for next quarter”, she tries very hard not to sigh. 

So, Jemma Simmons is not a prude. Skye glances at the wall clock – it’s not melting, but it doesn’t make it less surreal.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves… let’s be proper and start from the beginning, a couple of months ago (Jemma would love that and, well, it’s her story too).

“Jemma, Jemma!”, the call makes said girl raise her head from the microscope, where she was studying the last induced mutation she’d created very intently. Her roommate. Despite annoyed, she offers the bouncing girl a smile – that’s what friends do, right? Jemma’s not entirely sure, this friends thing is too new for her: Fitz doesn’t count as a regular friend, so that’d make Sue her first. Sadly.

Oh, well. The costs of having five PhDs and tens of publications at twenty five…

Besides, it must be really important for the MBA student to drag herself to the Biochem lab. With all the death animals; and corpses.

“Guess who’s moving here?”, oh, wait, scratch that. Really important or…

“Skies”

“Skye”, the girl corrects, with the usual hint of annoyance. Too bad Jemma doesn’t really care.

“Oh, Skye, yes – sorry”, for the sake of the friendship protocol, “oh, wow, that’s… lovely news”

“Yes! Oh, my gosh, I’m so excited!”, the exclamation is redundant, even for Jemma and her general lack of people skills, “wait until I tell Jenny about it – the Princess Charming herself. Living. Here”, the terrible nickname echoes through Jemma’s head. Yes, her roommate and the rest of her groupie friends call this Skye person ‘Princess Charming’. Pardon me, but bloody hell. She was so startled the first time she heard it that she asked about it – big mistake: “isn’t it obvious? She’s every lesbian girl’s dream! She’s rich, famous, gorgeous, …” and Sue went into monologue mode, and blimey! Jemma’s head is now full of irrelevant information about this girl she couldn’t care less (for the record, she hates peas – did it change your life? Didn’t think so).

“We’re going to the airport to wait for her, wanna come?”

“I really can’t, I have a report…”, the glare makes her trail off. Apparently lying stills are very important for a friendship – tough luck, Jemma.

“You are really going to miss the opportunity of seeing Skye?”, the improper phrasing of the question makes Jemma cringe.

“I am sorry, Sue, I have to observe this culture here… ”

“I can’t believe it! Trading Skye for amebas! We’re so not friends anymore!”

“It’s actually fungi”

“Ugh!”, and the girl stomps out of the lab. Maybe she judged her improvement in friendships a little too quickly.

 

“Coast’s clear?”, Skye asks her team of bodyguards as she gets sunglasses from her leather messenger bag. The never-douchebag licence, perks of stardom: there’s no problem in wearing sunglasses indoors. In fact, it’s almost a requirement to endure the endless fan harassment.

“Not even close. Apparently a group of fans found out about the forging of your move-in date. Let’s hurry past them before they call in more”

“Damn it!”, she throws her head back, “all right, let’s do this shit”, and she walks through the double doors, to be received by screeches. One watching the entire scene (like ourselves) can be easily convinced that’s it’s a remake of Miranda Priestley’s “don’t be silly, Andrea, everybody wants to be us” car scene: at one side of the door, annoyance and impatience; at the other, a brimming, my-life-is-glorious smile. Nice acting, Princess Charming.

“Oh, my God, Skye, I’m your biggest fan!”, a random voice in the little crowd makes itself evident – now if Sky had a dime for everytime she hears that… oh, wait, she actually does. Then again, only that to make this bat-shit craziness worth it. She smiles at the girl – beautiful. Blonde, blue eyes, bombshell. Skye’s type – arm accessory type. Must look ravishing in a red dress.

Nah, not worth it. Not anymore. Not since she became “Skye, the rockstar”.

Everything was romantic or sexual complicated when she was “Skye, the rockstar” – girls obsessed over her, which often made all the courtship process revoltingly easy; girls that didn’t would carry around the achievement of doing her (with proof, which quickly spread through the internet). Not even a one night stand is simple, when you carry “the rockstar” after your name – there’s always a stack of crazy women (or men – let’s not judge, even though it doesn’t apply to Skye) that comes with it.

“Please use the other door, miss”, Skye tunes in to reality to see her bodyguard confronting an uninteresting girl: brown eyes, brown hair, average height, no remarkable body… not even close, actually. The messed up ponytail, plait skirt, a button-down two sizes too large, that’s never met an iron before, and ha! Safety goggles! This is priceless! All of it makes her looks she just came out from a bad comedy sketch.

“Excuse me? The airport is a public place, and there’s only this door in this terminal, for some reason I am unaware”, judging by the accent, a Monty Python sketch.

“It’s okay, Jamie, let Ms. Cleese pass. Or is it Madam Curie?”, perks of being a rockstar: saying whatever the fuck you want.

“What?”

“Oh, and by the way, those glasses rock”, and a wink and a smirk complement the comment, because we all know: there’s great pleasure on being a jerk. Skye’s amusement skyrockets (get it?) when the girl blushes all the fifty shades of crimson and brings her hands to her eyes, only to hit the lens.

She opens her mouth to say something, but gives up, turns on her heel and hurries away, leaving Skye to laugh her arse off, high fiving Jamie on the process.

 

Rude. Incredibly rude. Oh, dear, how improper can you be to a person that’s done you no harm? Jemma washes her face yet again, as if that’s going to melt again her anger.

“So you decided to come”, she opens her eyes to look at Sue’s reflection, which carries an expression very similar to… anger? What?

“Yes, I’m sorry about what I said in the lab, I was so focused in my work… I tried to make it here in time… ”

“And you did”

“Isn’t she gone? Wow, then go after her, maybe you’ll catch… ”

“She already left”

“But that’s not possible, that would mean I… “, the gears turn in Jemma’s head. Oh no.

“That… rude girl is Skye”, she says slowly and without noticing.

“Rude? You’re the one who’s rude showing up like that to see one of the most important people of our times!”, the snap shoots straight into Jemma’s effort and best intentions. She desperately wants to cry now, “really, I had to pretend I didn’t know you, otherwise I’d be laughing stock too!”, do not cry, “Imagine if Skye finds out I’m friends with you”, do not cry…

“I have to use the loo”, worst excuse ever – you’re already in it, twit.

“My friends and I are having a Skye party tonight; you should stay at your geek friend’s house”

“His name”, a deep breath, “is Fitz”

“Whatever… see ya, Jemma”, the girl turns her back and the tears start flowing through Jemma’s cheek, like clockwork, swiss made meanness.


	2. Lighting fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, eleven kudos (and a comment – a lovely one!) since yesterday – thanks, folks! That's way better reception than I expected! Yay!
> 
> Thanks for bearing with the typos and mistakes in general – I gave it a quick read this morning and, wow, 'stills' instead of 'skills'? Those letters are not even close! Hopefully, you all overlooked this and enjoyed the overall content. I am aware of the existence of those, but my target is to keep writing and make a correction pass after the story is done, so the rereads and edits don't hinder my enthusiasm towards it; and I can complete it sooner, if I work like this (my argument for you chapter-thirsty people!)
> 
> I didn't really promise a new chapter so soon, but here it is. Same warnings apply, since you're here I assume you read them.

Fungi are better than people in various ways: fungi don’t talk, they are much more predictable and especially, fungi don’t worship a rockstar-fungus. Or if they do, they don’t bother Jemma with it, which is the same for practical purposes. They also don’t unfriend you on Facebook when you fail to divinate the dress code for surprising said fungus-rockstar. See? So much better than people. Except when people at hand are Fitzes – fungi don’t stand a chance against Fitzes. Fitzes are known for: one, their enormous patience; two, infinite support; three, great taste in distracting video games – all of the three which they proved yesterday yet again.

After the incident in the airport – and crying her eyeballs out in a stall –, Jemma went straight to Fitz’s, who proceeded to prove, in order, why he’s better than fungus: first, he listened to Jemma tell the same exact story over and over again, for two hours; then, he reassured her countless times that she was trying to do the right thing and that people are arseholes; finally, a couple of games of Smash Bros did it – mainly because he let Jemma win more often than not. One, two, three and Jemma was as good as new.

It was a glorious day at her campus, the autumn leaves were colouring pathways in hues of orange; it was slightly chilled, so Jemma could wear her favourite jacket to go to her favourite coffee shop, where she’d sit at her favourite table and watch the ducks. Lovely, it even deserves a jazz standard out of it.

This coffee shop is actually nothing special, but Jemma appreciates that the barista knows Jemma’s favourite out the top of her head. Also, she’s somewhat attractive, so Jemma kind of hopes that the girl will make a move… eventually. No pressure – it’s not like she can’t do a few more articles and PhDs while she waits.

“Hi, what can I get you, Ms…”, she hears the girl say a tad overenthusiastically.

“Mary”

“Right”, a chuckle follows, “whatever you want me to call you, I’m game”, Jemma’s insides churn at the flirt. She closes her eyes, in hope that it goes away.

“Cappuccino, triple chocolate, cinnamon on top – if you can, put some mint liqueur, I’d say a teaspoon is fine”, if going away meant become spectacularly worse, we can call it a great success. Jemma would recognise that… bloody voice anywhere. Skye. She turned to look and indeed, Skye was sitting with two suited monstrous guys.

Right, calm down, Jemma! Maybe she didn’t notice you there; maybe she doesn’t even remember – actually, why would she? She’s a rockstar, right? She must have bigger concerns than keeping tabs on the people she ridicules! Still, better safe than sorry, the old saying goes, so Jemma decides to get the hell out.

“Wait, isn’t that the girl from the airport?”, a purposefully indiscreet whisper shatters Jemma’s theory. She closes her eyes forcefully, ”Will you look at that, Jamie? She’s got a lab coat to match the goggles!”, Jemma purses her lips – which, for a person who know the girl, is the sign that things are about to get real bad.

“Excuse me, have you not anything to do?”, her breath is shallow and eyes narrow, “besides making rude comments about people you don’t know, that is”

“Wow, wow, honey, calm down – it’s a joke! Haven’t you got those in Britain?”

“We do – and they actually make you laugh. Fancy that, right? Well, unlikely yourself, I have a real job and I haven’t got time for anymore of… “

“Wait, wait”

“... our exchanges, no matter how lovely they are”

“What makes you think I haven’t got myself a real job?”, Jemma scoffs.

“Being a rockstar is not a real job”, big emphasis on the ‘not’ – Skye’s smirk falters, “I mean, some of us are in labs researching cures for diseases and you are there, being worshipped for writing twelve songs a year and being such the smart pants”

“Oh, that’s cute! Smart pants? Aren’t we past the point of euphemism already?”, Jemma’s lips curl up a bit, then back down – that means ‘fuck you’, in British lingo.

“Have a nice day”, she proceeds to leave.

“Oh, I will. I’ll just be here, drink my cappuccino, do nothing, and earn more than you do in a month while at it. So have fun with your diseases, babe!”

That does it – it sends Jemma completely off-edge. On her way to the lab, her nostrils are flaring, she’s staring intently at the floor and she replays the interaction over and over and over. Really, by the time she gets to the double doors of the med school building, she can recite it flawlessly. It builds up her gut, the volcanic rage, and everything seems a tad blurry. She’s so wrapped up in it that she gets madder by the minute. Murderous, almost. Actually, scratch the almost: positively murderous.

Unwinding proves to be incredibly hard, at that stage. She tries to focus on the reactions she has to prepare, but Skye’s voice keeps popping in her head – her laugh an incessant, horribly picked soundtrack. She knows she should stop, refocus, but she has to deliver the results, her grant depends on it. Plus, it’s almost second nature – what could possibly go wrong?

A deafening sound fills the building at this odd hour – the fire alarm. Bloody perfect. Who was the fucking idiot… Jemma turns, ready to comply with the safety procedures.

Then she’s faced with a three metres high flame engulfing her previous experiment – oh no. This is her fault. No, no, no, can’t be. She watches the flames stupidly, jaw dropped, oblivious to the fire alarm, that keeps blaring, to the chaos on the courtyard. She just watches the flames spread.

No.

No.

This can’t be happening.

Her results – she burnt them.

“Jemma!”, she hears the only familiar voice she welcomes at the circumstances, “Jemma, thank goodness you’re okay!”, Fitz then supplies her with a fire extinguisher.

“Here, this might help. Now let’s put this out”, the non-judgemental offer grounded Jemma, and within minutes, the lab was covered in nasty white powder, instead of bright fire. At least that.

“We still have to…”

“evacuate the building, I’m aware. Thanks, Fitz”, and she gives him a heart warming smile, an effort to hide the heart breaking truth: she’s lost almost everything within those two days. She looks at Fitz – keyword: almost.

 

First page of the next day’s newspaper: historical med school building almost burnt down by the recklessness of a veteran. Jemma Simmons, considered a prodigy in biochemistry research, was completing her breakthrough study on virus diagnosis, made a rookie mistake that will cost tens of thousands to the university.

Skye reads on, while sipping her cappuccino in the coffee shop – the barista, Heather, appears to have an excellent memory and brought to her the beverage perfectly blended, accompanied by a smile and a flirt.

“Jemma!”, Skye overhears the barista calling, “are you all right? I read all about it!”

“I am, thanks for asking”, oh! Ms. Goggles! She’s Ms. Burnt the Lab too?

“I’ll just bring you the usual, then”

“Thanks”

“And here was I, thinking only rockstars made the cover of the news”, Jemma raises her eyes and noticeably takes a big breath. She seems exhausted, and she doesn’t really bother answering, she just sips her coffee, “and I thought you weren’t capable of lighting any fires”, the girl closes her eyes.

“Jemma, sorry to keep you waiting”, a scottish sounding, red-faced boy joins them.

“It’s okay, Fitz, I just got here”, she turns to Skye, “don’t you have anywhere else to be?”

“Not really, no. Besides, I wanted to give you a gift – your first front page cover”, and she tosses the newspaper on the table, walking away right after doing so.

“Listen here”, Skye looks up – red-face is staring right back at her, Jemma’s nowhere to be seen, “Do you know that girl just lost her job and a great opportunity of changing the world of medicine as we know it? So fuck you for rubbing that on her face. I don’t care if you’re a rockstar or the owner of the world… ”

“Back off, buddy”, Jamie cuts in, and red-face is clearly intimidated.

“It’s okay, Jamie, just let him go”, lost her job, wow, that sorta sucks. There’s a pang of guilt there.

“Oh, my God, there she is!”, a familiar girl points in her direction, along with some other groupies. Shit. “Skye, wow, it’s so nice to run into you like that”, the blonde flips her hair charmingly.

“Looks like a very planned ‘run into’, in my opinion”, she’s rewarded with a mischievous smile, as if stalking was a good thing – someone has to update blondie here, “anyway, I was just leaving, I have to feed my cat, you know?”, at this moment, Skye notices Jemma out of the corner of her eye, and swears she saw a hint of a smile when the other girl heard the reply to blondie. Skye then turns to Jemma and puckers her lips, raising her eyebrows together in the centre of her face – Skye’s closest to an empathising gesture. She then nods slightly at the girl – like a proper butch – and leaves.

“Did she just nod at you?”, she hears in the distance. Skye sighs, hoping that doesn’t make her the cover of the next newspaper, “ ‘cause I’m pretty sure she did”

“She did. She read the news, and is concerned about my well being, not much more”

“Oh. That’s very… nice of her”, there’s no reply.

Skye frowns – this Jemma girl seemed so predictable: the geeky odd girl out in high school, the science weirdo; on top of that, she’s a prodigy. It’s like stereotypes were made out of her. She’s the obvious choice for laughing stock of the cool kids, like Skye. So why did this last interaction go so deep, and why is it repeating itself in Skye’s head?

‘Is it love… that I’m feeling’, corny Whitesnake strikes the chorus on the radio and Skye has a fit of laughter – for a moment there, she can swear she’s in a bad rom-com. Or simply a rom-com, since being bad seems to be mandatory in the genre.

The minute of peace of mind lit a light bulb in her head.

“Turn the car around, let’s find Goggles girl”


	3. That spoiled brat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was loads of fun to write! And thank you for all your continuous support - have fun reading!

She hates to do that to Fitz – his puppy eyes, his concerned gaze, it kinds of make her take it back. But no, she can’t. It’s the truth. She has to be alone for a couple of hours, even though Fitz was insistent that they should play videogames at his flat all evening; with pizza, and icecream. Honestly, she didn’t even know how could she want to refuse this perfectly good offer. It seemed like a no-brainer, rationally. Her gut feeling told her otherwise. Even though Fitz was a brilliant friend, she needed to sort herself out – alone.

Which brings her here, to a quiet bench near the lake. It’s almost dusk, but Jemma doesn’t particularly care – really, at this point, what’s the worse it could happen? She closes her eyes and inhales. Now she has to figure out the next step, that is, how to get a new job, and survive while she doesn’t. It shouldn’t be too hard – she has a fair amount of prestige in her field. In fact, let’s be realistic: a serious biologist or chemist who doesn’t know Dr. Simmons is unheard of.

With this thought, she relaxes. It happens to everyone, right? They have bad days, they make mistakes, they learn from it, and they move on. It’s the circle of life. Actually, the circle intra-life, to be more precise, but you get the idea.

“Excuse, lady”, Jemma jumps high metres high from her seat, “I would like you to accompany me”, a very large and unfamiliar guy says, no hint of expression in his face, “please”

At this point all the rose colour of Jemma’s cheeks is gone.

“Please don’t make me repeat myself. Come calmly and we won’t have a problem. Now, please, this way”, he motions ahead and waits for her to start walking, which she reluctantly does.

Of course, being kidnapped after losing her job. Apparently rock bottom has a trapdoor.

The short walk took forever. Jemma searched all possible actions in her head, trying to find the optimal one for the delicate situation. Compliance was it, surprisingly. She briefly observed the man escorting her and came to the quick conclusion that he was not only eons stronger, but could outrun her easily.

“We’re here”, he says, opening the door of a black limo, “please go inside”, in those microseconds, Jemma pieced it all together. She never, ever thought she’d say that, but she preferred to be kidnapped. She took a seat and looked ahead, not surprised by who she was face to face with.

“Beer?”

The fire in Jemma’s eyes burns bright, smoke flows through her nostrils – Jemma never understood the definition of ‘fuming’ so deeply. That… spoiled… brat.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I didn’t mean to scare you – I just thought that you would say no if I or the boys asked”

“I wonder why”, oh, sarcasm.

“I need you to hear me out, please”

“Why would I do that? The two last times I listened to you, you were mocking my clothes and making fun of me losing my job and being publicly humiliated by a newspaper. So, go on, give me one. good. reason”

“You have a point, sorry ‘bout that”

“I’m glad we agree – now would you believe I have a point if I say I never, ever want to see you again?”, oh, the pout, classic.

“Yes”, the once confident rockstar was sheepish, “and I want to make it up to you”

“Oh, right, of course. I just don’t want you to”

“Please, hear me out. I’ll do anything you ask in return, even talk to your creepy-stalker blonde friend. For real”, Jemma sighs.

“All right”

 

“You’re kidding, right? I mean, is this one of the bad jokes Americans seem to like again?”, after being catatonic for a full minute, Jemma blurts out this out.

“Not kidding”, a mixture of anger, disappointment and surrender form.

“Well, then no”

“No what?”

“I can’t accept that”

“I don’t see why not”, she is offended – isn’t it obvious?

“I have five PhDs and at least three articles that are considered groundbreaking in the scientific community – don’t you think I’m a little overqualified for the job?”

“Considering your chances of getting a research job after you burnt tens of thousands in equipment is pretty low, I’d say it’s a good deal”, ouch.

“I’m sorry, I won’t be the maid of a self-absorbed, insensitive prick of a rockstar”, and back to fuming. She did become very aware of the curse word, though – never the fury takes so much control that the proper part is completely muted; it’s Jemma, after all.

“Thanks”, Skye smiles, then looks at the girl determined, ”Think about it – you’d live at my house, I can offer you a room downstairs, plus amenities and food, and I’d still pay you handsomely”

“It isn’t about the money!”, okay, this conversation is past ridiculous.

“Really? And how do you plan on living without it?”

“I… “

“As I thought”, she hates herself for not shooting an answer right away, and watches the girl sit back confidently. Ugh.

“Excuse me, I think we’re done here.”, she opens the door and leaves.

 

Skye repeats the scene mentally in the following morning: it didn’t go well. At all. And to be fair, what was bothering her the most was how much it was bothering her. She offended the girl – so fucking what? It happens all the fucking time, and people move on – that’s just it, it happens. The amount of energy she was wasting on the girl irritated Skye, she hadn’t done so much effort since… well, her only girlfriend. Fuckin’ hell.

“Where to, Skye?”

“The coffee shop – let’s grab some doughnuts, guys”, a cheer follows, coming from all the three men.

“Hey, Heather – the usual for us, and a shitload of doughnuts; the boys are hungry”, and she winks, noticing the obvious blush on the girl’s cheeks. She should tap that. Nah, too easy.

A familiar blonde comes through the door – Jemma’s friend, the stalker one. Ugh, damn.

“Hey, blondie, you’re lab girl’s friend, right? Wanna sit with us and have doughnuts?”, as soon as the words leave her mouth, Skye’s surprised she even said them. Again, too much effort. Grr.

“S-sure”, she’s so taken aback that she doesn’t express any other reaction.

“Cool, come over before the boys finish the best ones. And tell me your name while you’re at it”, she flashes that smile. Yes, the one that brings all the girls to the yard.

 

A Skye-less day, finally.

However, a frustrating one, nonetheless. Jemma called all universities she had strong ties with, asking (very politely, of course) about research openings. All of them incidentally didn’t have any openings, even the ones that offered Jemma a transfer weeks before. She throws her phone against the sofa, and feels the tears forming. She was so tired, so beaten. Something about not knowing how the next day was going to be, or even if it was going to be, felt like a power drain. It took every bit of her carefully crafted willpower to process with the task.

Still, no success – even after she finished the list of fifteen names. She hides her face with her hands, ready to have a major breakdown.

Then her cellphone rings. It’s Sue.

“Hey, Jemma!”

“Hey”, the reply was weak.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

“I’ve been better”, she forces a smile to sound better through the phone. It doesn’t work.

“Hey, hey, I know that voice. Listen, where are you? I’m going to grab you and we’re doing something fun”

“Not in the mood, Sue, I’m sorry”

“Oh, wait, did you notice how my voice didn’t go up at the end – it means ‘not a question’ “, and Sue chuckles at her own Gossip Girl’s quote, making Jemma almost smile, “Seriously, I’ve been an awful friend to have in the past days”

“Please don’t say you want to make up to me”

“What? Why?”

“Nevermind – bad dreams”, Jemma could almost hear Sue shrugging.

“Let’s say I want to win a friend request on Facebook, then”

“You’re so silly”, finally, a full smile.

Much to Fitz’s frustration, the evening was spent with two lesbians, popcorn, Ben & Jerry’s, Alicia Silverstone and her cluelessness. But it was definitely the most fun Jemma’s had in a while. Finally she felt herself stepping on solid terrain, when it came to Sue.

And with friends like that, who needs grants: Sue also let her stay two more weeks without the rent (more than that was monetarily impossible). Fitz, angel that he is, is been sharing his own meals with Jemma since she lost her job and grant. Finally, the university chief of department accepted her sincere (and profuse) apologies.

Job-wise, things were going south, and accelerating. Jemma didn’t know what was worse: all the ‘but we can’t accept you under the current circumstances’, its disguised version ‘we don’t have any openings at the moment’, or the fact that they make Skye right. 

Even though her words hung, Skye herself disappeared. The girl did understand the message… what a pleasant surprise. It only left Jemma to wonder – why are her words still there, then?


	4. You say hate like it's a bad thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember all those warnings in the first chapter. They've been ignorable so far, with setting up the pseudo-plot (I won't even lie to you guys and say there's actually a plot – I fully admit this is very PWP).
> 
> They're not going to be anymore – in other words: shit gets serious now. That's your last chance of turning back and reading something else.
> 
> And for all the rest of you that will continue, have fun reading (whatever fun you like heh)!

It’s day ten of the job search, still nothing. Her time with Sue is running out and Fitz’s already doing more than he can (typical Fitz). It’s time to start planning the next move. Not that it requires that much thought – she has to get a non-academic job, otherwise it’s overpriced flight to London, to stay with her parents, which is almost not an option.

You see, It wasn’t that Jemma didn’t like her parents – of course she did, she loved them. However – there’s really not a proper way of saying this –, they were never satisfied and never proud. They cherry-picked her flaws. She fully knew that, if she went back, she’d hear that she was ‘such an irresponsible girl for losing her grant’, or that she was ‘foolish to make such a rookie’s mistake’, and variations – over and over again. Jemma really couldn’t take anymore bashing, her own mind was doing the judgement job quite well, already.

She sips her tea – loose leaves Earl Grey, perfect –, thinking about what sort of job she should look for first. So, definitely one without too much people interaction; Jemma’s afraid she’s not qualified enough for it. So no secretary, no waitress, or stores. Damn, that cuts half of the possibilities. A job in the industry would be something to think about, but she doubts she’d get a recommendation letter after she burnt a historical building. Well, almost.

Jemma’s a tad disappointed – she suddenly realises that she can’t do much more than chemistry or biology. Even being radically good at those, it’s still a sad fact – and a very blocking one when the entire biochem world is mad at you.

“What’s up, Goggles”, Skye slides into the chair in front of her and a mixture of frustration, anger and shock takes over, “I knew you’d be happy to see me”

“I’m really not.” no, no, sorry, that’s her thoughts. Jemma can’t utter such rudeness at first, she’s completely incapable unless she has a very strong reason – was she actually says is: “not exactly”, with a small, bitter smile and sips her tea again.

“Have you given some more thought about my offer?”

“My decision is final, so I’m afraid I didn’t”

“Final? Don’t say that, it breaks my heart”, Skye chuckles, “So, how’s the job search going, then?”, silence.

More silence. Okay, this is awkward.

“Why are you so keen on having me for this job?”, Jemma finally blurts out what’s been roaming her thoughts for days.

“You’re smart, proper, seems compulsively organised – I mean, even your phone is parallel to the table! And you loathe me, which is great. See? You’re perfect for it”, the frown in Jemma’s face deepens, from being called just ‘smart’ and for not knowing what to say in the face of the sadomasochism case at hand.

“Oh, dear, look at the time! I better go”, Skye’s smirking, which probably means she finds Jemma’s sloppy lying amusing. Jemma stands up, then reaches for her phone, but Skye grabs it quicker.

“Hey!”

“Here… is my… phone number”, she says as she types into the keyboard, “if you decide your final wasn’t final”

“But how… ? It was locked!”

“You’re right – it was”, a quick grin and she hands the phone back, “Have a nice evening, Jemma”

 

“So, Skye, is Boston welcoming you?”, the suit clad interviewer predictably. Interviewers are kind of all the same: she even has a recurrent bet with the boys about it. They all call questions and the one who gets the most right calls the shots on Saturday night.

“Yea, yea, Boston’s lovely”, the guy seems amused.

“Lovely? I wasn’t expecting a polite, brit rockstar!”, the audience cracks up. Skye forces a chuckle to hide the fact that she’s actually blushing; she can feel it burn, though. Luckily she has relatively dark skin tone, which always comes in handy in this situations – if she was ghost pale like Jemma, she’d be screwed.

“Hey, I can’t stay it fuckin’ rocks yet, I’ve been here for, what, two weeks?”, not her best comeback – see-through flawed logic –, but she was unable to come up with something better. The ‘lovely’ make lots of thoughts; thoughts that she didn’t exactly want to have, arise.

“Never stopped you before”

“Ah, but movin’ is different – it kinda sucks. You’re bored with doing things like opening a bank account, buying furniture. So yea, the bad stuff is blurring things, I guess”

“Wow, hear that, people? Rockstars go to IKEA!”

“No, we don’t. Not IKEA”, she counters quickly. The audience laughs, and she’s back in the game.

“So, you’re settling her to complete your… third? Is it third?”

“Fourth”

“Fourth album, right! And what made you… “, bleh, easy questions. Skye’s so used to going through those she kind of does it in automatic gear. Really, you’d be impressed of how little brain she uses to do it – almost as much as when she’s watching TV. Actually, it’d be funny to measure that, maybe Jemma could…

Ah! Jemma, again! Fuck it – let’s overthink about why she’s coming up again and again, whatever it may be. So, yea, she’s hard to get, which is refreshing – this is factor one, for sure. Hm. She seems so… goody two shoes – which is boring and has appeal at the same time. It makes Skye want to find out how far she can get… Skye starts to wonder if girl blushes as much in bed – probably does. She probably feels embarrassed with someone undressing her. Heh. Skye can even imagine the silent objections, and the nervousness.

“What are you smirking about, Skye? C’mon, share with it us!”, she’s awaken from her sexual musings with the hard slap from reality: she’s still in the fucking interview, replying obvious things.

“Oh, I had an idea”, she goes with the flow proficiently.

“Awesome! Now tell us already!”

“Nah, that’d ruin all the fun, wouldn’t it? Sit tight – y’all will find out soon enough”, she winks to the nearby camera.

 

“Oh, my God, she’s so hot!”, the fanclub piles in the couch of Jemma and Sue’s shared apartment, watching the rockstar wink.

“I can’t believe she invited you for doughnuts, Sue! You’re so lucky!”

“So, you never told us how did this go!”

“Sue, I’m home!”

“Hey Jem, we’ve got pizza, want some?”

“Oh, that is… lovely, thank you”, Sue’s face goes blank for a while.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, is something wrong?”, the confusion frown deepens. Sue drags her into a corner – it looks like a sketchy, street alley deal.

“Are you… going out with Skye?”, absolute horror contorts Jemma’s face.

“What? No! I talked to her a handful of times, all briefly and one-sided. She’s… not my type”, that phrase ignites a parallel train of thought in Jemma’s head: was Skye really not her type? Or was she just not her type because she’s a brat? And maybe because her roommate had a weird obsession for her? If Skye was a random person she met in a coffee shop and asked her out, like a normal person, would she go? Argh, why is she even thinking that? This is pointless – Skye is not a random person, and disregarding those factors is completely useless! What on earth, Jemma! “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing, really – nevermind me”, and Sue smiles warmly, “So, how was your day?”, Jemma can’t help but wonder what lead the girl to think that.

“The same – apparently outside of science, I’m not of much use”, this sounded more depressed than she intended.

“Oh, Jem! I’m sorry for you! I’d love to watch a movie and make it better, but the girls are here and the latest Skye show is streaming…”

“It’s okay, I’ll turn out fine”

“How about tomorrow?”

“It’s a deal”, Jemma nods and gives her blonde a sweet smile. On the way to her bedroom, she hears, “so, doughnuts with Skye! Tell us everything!”. Skye invited Sue to doughnuts… which doesn’t make much sense, since she thinks Sue is a creepy stalker. Unless… okay, of course she didn’t mean that she’d ‘even talk to Sue to make her accept the job’. Ha! A selfish girl like Skye! Of course she wouldn’t do it just for Jemma, especially when she didn’t even use it to bribe Jemma earlier. Thinking that would be delusional, right?

 

Home, sweet, home – Skye drops her keys on her desk and doesn’t even bother to check her laptop, or messages. Instead, she takes off her jeans and hops in bed, eager to finish ‘elaborating’ her idea. She doesn’t really think it through. She only closes her eyes, reaches for her underwear and imagines Jemma Simmons sitting on her bed, looking up at her, eyes a mixture of fear and excitement, awaiting her next order.

Hm. That’s good… she flicks her soft flesh as the image of her undoing Jemma’s button-down runs through her head. Painfully slow. Jemma’s breath is shallow, anxious. She so wants it – badly. But’s Jemma, so she reaches for Skye’s arm just as she undoes the button just below her bra, in a feeble attempt to make her stop. Ha! Like that’s going to happen. Skye feels herself smirking, and the devilish glint of her own eyes.

She bites her lower lip, as her imagination conjures the shirt being slip past Jemma’s shoulder, making her fully see her the girl’s lace bra. White, as the stereotype would dictate. She hooks her index finger on one of the straps and goes up and down. And up and further down. It makes Jemma have goose pimples. She stops, satisfied, and lift the girl’s chin. She fully expects to be kissed, but no – that’s not how the game works, Jemma. Skye places a knee far up in between her legs; so close she can feel the heat on her skin – as a reflex, Jemma spreads them further. Oh, the heat. She can just to begin imagining the wetness. She leans down, lips very close to Jemma’s, but she’s a tease, so she dives to her neck instead, earning a full blown moan close to her ear.

That does it – Skye feels the waves of orgasm through her body, and for a couple of minutes she just lays there, enjoying the way it releases her muscles all over. After the haze is gone, reality strikes: she just masturbated to Jemma Simmons.

What. the. fuck.


	5. Holy crap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, serious warnings here - stay away if any of the tags disturb you. And for those of you who are savvy of terrible literature, yes, the title is a reference. I had to, I'm writing a D&S story!

Two days to homelessness. Third interview of the day: no success, so far. Jemma can even trace a pattern in them – a couple more and she’d have a very accurate script, which would go a tad like this: she sits in front of the interviewer, the sheepish ‘I’m terrible at this’ smile plastered across her face. The person them looks over her CV, and asks the obvious question: why would a person with five PhDs work here? And she gets to the ‘yeah, so I lost my grant recently’. In a good situation, they’d ask why and she’d tiptoe incompetently around the fact that she’s burnt half of a lab – it’s Jemma, not a liar at all, remember? In a bad situation, they’d just connect the dots – ‘oh, so you’re the girl that was in the news!’. In both, she’s turned down.

She arrives at Fitz’s at six sharp – dinner time for Brits –, and quite drained. He’s not home yet. She sits on the couch, frustrated that she’s getting nowhere. She then grabs her mobile and proceeds to stare at Skye’s number for a while – it makes her feel like a teenager, except that it wasn’t exactly a crush; it was no choice. She finally snaps out of it and locks the phone.

“What am I thinking? No! There must be another way!”, this is ringing so untrue right now that she opens the contact again and is on the verge of dialing.

“Hey, Jemma, how was your day?”, Fitz enthuses from the front door. She hides the mobile like a child who's done something wrong.

“Fitz, hi!”, Fitz, far from the most stupid person in the world, notices the jumpiness of his friend, of course. But something tells him it’s dangerous territory, so he chooses the safety of not mentioning.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be sneaky. My day, in case you’re wondering, was quite good”, Jemma smiles, mostly for her own sake – explaining the situation to anyone right now would be… embarrassing, and confusing. Mostly confusing.

 

Jamie glances at Skye for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Her bodyguard-turned-friend wasn’t exactly discreet. Not for people who knew him.

“Speak up, Jamie”

“What?”, oh, this exchange – always happens. He always tries to pretend that he doesn’t want to ask; usually the harder he tries to hide, the worse the question.

“C’mon, don’t play dumb – it doesn’t work on me. What do you want to ask?”

“Did you give up on that girl?”

“What girl?”

“Goggles”

“I didn’t even want her in the first place!”, the man raises his eyebrows, “hey, the maid thing was me feeling bad about mocking her, don’t judge me!”, let’s not talk about or remember that masturbation part, shall we?

“What’s your plan B?”

“There’s no plan B, screw her – she didn’t accept it, it’s her loss”

“I meant for the maid”, the smile on her friend’s lips told otherwise; it was a trap, one she fell hard for.

“Oh”

Silence. Just to make his victory more obvious.

“I have none”, she finally sighs. Truth is she wasn’t expecting that – a girl refusing her, in any sense. And after the interview day, she has been pushing Jemma to the back of her mind. Because lusting after the loser in school is… fucking weird, to say the least. She felt like she was reenacting Twilight. Or fifty shades of grey (aren’t they interchangeable, anyway?). So, yeah, freakin’ lame.

Come to think of it, it’s been so long since she had something with someone, it was plausible for her to want to fuck anything.

Except Sue. Or any fangirl. 

It didn’t take long for Skye to realise that currently the only person that fit the criteria was Jemma herself. Okay, lame, lame, lame. She needs to meet new people. Interesting people, that weren’t fangirls and were up to her standards. Yeah, that was a good plan.

Starting tomorrow, because today was tiring as fuck.

 

One day to homelessness – five p.m.: the last interview just ended, same (lack of) luck as the previous days. The time has come to make the dreaded phone call.

Ring. Jemma breathes deeply, closes her eyes.

Ring. Okay, keep at it, Jemma. It’s just a phone call, it’s just a job.

Ring. One more and she gives up, she promises herself.

Rin… “Hello?”, oh my goodness, she actually answered. Now stay calm.

“Skye, this is Jemma”

“Oh, hi”, she doesn’t sound very enthusiastic – certainly not like the person who’d kidnap Jemma to offer her the job, “what’s up?”

“You were right”, Jemma releases a deep breath when she says it.

“I often am”, Jemma could hear the smirk on other side of the line, “but about what?”

“I couldn’t find a suitable job.”, the words pain Jemma as she hears herself uttering them, “So, I was wondering: is your offer still on the table?”

“Yeah, sure”, again, not hyped – at all, “I’ll send James to pick you up in half an hour”

Who hates who now?

 

Working for Skye was completely different from what she envisioned. It was basically having a big home for herself and not being allowed to have a maid; oh, and being paid to stay there. When she imagined this first week, it involved Skye watching her every move and making those American jokes – basically pissing her off, as the Americans would say. But no, that didn’t happen: within the week she’s been working there, she ran into Skye once, and she swears that the girl looked a tad mortified. It made Jemma intrigued and almost sad.

Almost.

The peace is enjoyable, though and the job isn’t as bad as she thought: it gives her plenty of time to catch up with her reading. Actually, she’s doing it right now, at the top floor of her (technically Skye’s) four story penthouse, in shorts, a loose t-shirt and black rimmed glasses she never wears around anyone because she thinks it makes her look like a porn movie librarian – not that there was any choice, no other frame would support those thick lenses.

Skye arrives rather quietly for her standards – because she’s purposely avoiding Jemma, that is. She plans to continue on doing so until she’s not the single fuckable girl in town. Or at least, the only that Skye would actually… argh! This is ridiculous. Jemma Simmons cannot be in that list. Like, ever. 

She’s a loser, Skye’s a cool kid. And this is not a rom-com. So no.

She’s about to lose her caution when she catches a glimpse of her least favourite person right now, very entranced in her book. And she’s wearing shorts – like, short shorts. Those you’d would think Jemma Simmons wouldn’t have. Skye knows she should just escape to her room, but curiosity takes over.

She approaches the girl silently, like a predator in the Serengeti. She doesn’t realise how entranced she is, not a clue. What she does take in is the almost apparent full length of Jemma’s surprisingly toned legs, her lack of ponytail and how her nipples mark her shirt. Skye then notices the glasses and is convinced that she’d been teleported to a porn movie. She then wonders what the pickup line for this one would be, and chuckles.

Bad move.

Jemma wakes up from her book haze, practically jumping out of the chair and losing her glasses in the process (only May has the superpower of doing whatever the fuck she wants – somersaults! – and manages not to lose her fake glasses).

She reminds Skye of Velma, from Scooby Doo, when she’s in all four looking for the glasses. Yes, in all fours. Because Skye thought this couldn’t be more porn movie-like. Well, it can. Skye takes a discreet deep breath and fetches the glasses for the girl, while trying to minimise contact.

Jemma puts them on in a quick motion and proceeds to babble something. Not that Skye’s paying attention. The white shirt with no bra isn’t helping. It makes her Jemma-isn’t-hot assumption accelerate out of the window. She is. She has a nice, flat stomach (when did scientists become so fit? Skye must’ve missed that!), a thin waist and clearly good-looking breasts. Okay, let’s take a deep breath.

Jemma uncomfortably tries to straighten her hair mid-babble, causing the strands to fall chaotically on top of her glasses and giving it a very… sexy… after sex look. Skye tries to recall if she’s seen the girl with her hair loose. If she did, she’s clearly a fucking idiot for not framing it mentally.

Jemma stares at Skye, nervously biting her lip, and waiting for the other girl to say something – anything. Nope. Not a word. The usually chattery rockstar silent as the dead – Jemma must’ve done something horrible. 

“I’m sorry”, she blurts again, for the thousandth time. Skye tries a smile.

“It’s all right, I haven’t got used to sharing my apartment. I’d prefer if you stayed on the first and second floors on your free time, if possible”, okay, when did Skye become so polite?

“Absolutely! I mean, I’m sorry, I just thought it was such a beautiful day to read under the sun and you were rarely home… it doesn’t matter, I clearly thought wrong”, again, the smile attempt. Even Jemma can see that smile is off, “anyway, I better get going”

She gets the stack of books from the floor, presses them against her chest and walks towards the stairs, not realising she’s being observed every step along the way.

Skye lays down in her bed – not the wisest idea, since she regretted deeply last time she did it, in this state. Not that she’s thinking that clearly to conclude that a cold shower would be a better fit. This time her imagination didn’t have to make much effort: the image of Jemma dressed in very… comfortable clothing was very real, and it’ll be etched into her mind for quite a while.

Now she wonders what’d happen if she did something. It was so easy to do something. Jemma was so insecure, so willing to be forgiven – Skye could imagine her doing quite a few things to make Skye forget her slip. The scene is rewinded and here’s Jemma again, apologising profusely to Skye.

“Not so fast. Mistakes have a cost”, she hears herself growls. Jemma looks even more terrified, “com’ere”, the girl hesitantly approaches.Skye reaches for her stomach above her shirt, amused by the reflex to the touch. She then starts a slow caress, purposefully straightening her thumb so it goes over the base of her breast. The smirk forms in Skye’s face when she sees the girl’s nipples react to the stroke. Jemma’s breath is also audible, but she seems afraid to move, or even to admit that, yes, she was that into it. Skye stops anyway, but not with noble intentions.

“Take off your shirt”, Jemma’s nervousness visibly increases, and she still can’t do a thing, “Didn’t you hear me?”, Skye approaches dangerously, nearing her mouth to the girl’s ear, in a way that she can feel the hot breath, “I said… take off… the shirt”

She reluctantly grabs the edges and rises it. Skye is delighted, “now give it to me”, she gets the shirt and throws it far back. She lowers her head on the girl’s bare chest and sucks her breasts’ surroundings, alternating so they don’t get envious of one another. Jemma’s breathy moans just add to her own arousal, and to her willingness to continue rises.

Somehow, while imagining the scene, Skye’s hand found a way into her panties and she can’t resist but finger herself, stroking harder as the imaginary moaning gets louder. When her persona captures Jemma’s nipple in her mouth for the first time, Jemma decides that one finger isn’t enough anymore. She gets it fast and heavy within seconds, mostly because she’s so wet she can’t feel anything if she doesn’t take it to the next level.

The sucks on Jemma’s breasts become also more aggressive, and the girl is shamelessly moaning, her glasses all blurry. Skye looks up for a minute to appreciate the scene – Jemma, with her head thrown back, mouth half open, messy hair and her hand softly tangled in Skye’s own messy hair, as an encouragement to continue.

Of course she does.

Back into real life, Skye’s thumb has found a way to her clitoris and is now complementing the fingering motion, which has rendered Skye unable to realise anything that was happening around her. Reality is just vague imagery. The only thing that matters, and is sharp, in her mind is the way Jemma murmurs her name after a particularly harsh bite.

There it is again, all over. The pulsing sensation, even stronger than last one. She feels her fingers being lightly squeezed by her inner muscles, but no, she’s not done. She grasps Jemma’s lovely hair and pulls it gently, the response moan clearly a positive one. She changes breasts and, with her free hand, brings Jemma impossibly close. She wants more, so she starts to descent, with bites and kisses. She tongues Jemma’s hipbone and inhales the scent of her arousal, which makes her second orgasm reach its peak and reality to come to focus.

(To quote fifty shades of grey:) Holy crap – maybe getting over her lust for Jemma is going to be harder than she’d previously thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Chloe Bennett broke my heart when she said she's okay with Skimmons FOR NOW, but still ships Skyeward. Meh. For now is so not cool.


	6. Do It With a Rockstar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I'm sorry, I had a super busy week this week, but here's an update! :D A long one :D!
> 
> Again, thanks for all the support!  
> Have loads of fun – I certainly did, when writing :)

The afternoon orgasm – the second one, that is – was followed by a nap, from which Skye is waking up right now. Eight o’clock in the evening: great timing.

“Jamie, change of plans: I need the car ready within the hour, I’m going out tonight”, she texts almost as quick as she can think it. Tonight’s the night. She showers, grabs a pair of jeans, boots and a leather jacket, messes up her hair a bit. What? It looks cool, girls dig it! Finally, rockstar makeup, which consists of heavy eyeliner. A final glance at the mirror to check – oh, loose the belt; not today, today we want things to come off easily. There, perfect – she pats her exposed strip of stomach in vanity.

“Jamie, off we go?”, she says as she gallops downstairs, where the suited man is waiting. In the company of the person she wanted to see the least. At least know she’s decently dressed. Actually now she looks like the Jemma Skye always thinks about (err… in normal circumstances) – ponytail, no glasses, button-down and shirt.

She looks embarrassed to see Skye, probably leftover guilt from the afternoon. Oh, ignorance is bliss, honey – if you knew what exactly happened, you’d be running and hiding from Skye. The girl doesn’t bother to hide the chuckle at the thought, entertaining herself further with Jemma’s puzzled expression. And Jamie just observes.

“Yes, ma’m”, he finally says, as he gives up trying to understand the underlying conflict.

“And Jemma, I’m sleeping all morning tomorrow, probably. Don’t come upstairs until I say so”, she adds while heading towards the door, not even bothering to look at the girl.

 

“Jemma, where are you? I haven’t heard from you in a week!”, Sue’s voice comes through as she answers the phone.

“Sue, I’m sorry – it’s a bit complicated, and embarrassing. Can we talk tomorrow, over coffee?”

“Are you okay?”

“I am. I really am”, how to tell your best friend you’ve been working for the girl she’s obsessed with (and tiny detail: who Jemma allegedly hates)? Actually, how do you tell anyone? She sincerely didn’t know, so she’s been avoiding both Fitz and Sue. The former had been informed about the maid part, to be fair, but that was it. He didn’t press much, either, probably because of how fidgety Jemma suddenly became when they got to the subject.

“So, we’re going to this party tonight, me and the girls. Wanna join?”, the answer is always a ‘no’, but Jemma’s kind of glad Sue insists on asking.

“I can’t, I’m sorry – I have plans with Fitz”, more accurately, Fitz was coming over. Sue couldn’t know that, though; if she got a glimpse of Jemma’s new postcode, she’d be hyped about Skye, which would be bad news for her job.

“Have fun then!”, she hears a text coming in – Fitz.

“You too”, she hangs up hurriedly to read Fitz’s text.

“I’m here, but I’m sure you gave me the wrong address”, she sighs.

To say Fitz was surprised when Jemma came out of one of the most prestigious buildings in the city is an understatement.

“Maid? I’m not sure I believe that anymore. I can just drop it if you’re embarrassed of your new job… you seem to be kind good at it, though”

“Are you suggesting something?”, she gives him the ‘I’m not Hydra’ smile. The one that has ‘foolish Fitz’ as subtext, “I’m a maid, yes – Skye’s maid”

“Skye… wow… okay. And here was I thinking prostitute was the worst thing you could say”

“Fitz!”

“I thought you didn’t like her – I mean, at all”

“Well, she offered me a job, and for that, I’m grateful. Also, she got me a great room in her house – I have no complaints, Fitz”, that’s a lie. Skye acting weird around her is still bothering, especially after yesterday.

“Let’s go upstairs”

“What? You can bring guests to rockstars’ homes?”

”James issued you an authorization to visit under my supervision – big deal, but you’re my best friend. Now come on, I really want you to see how amazing is this place”

 

Skye is bored. It must be her tenth beer, but she still feels sober. Maybe it’s because of the neverending fans in this fucking party. Most likely it’s because the perspectives of actually bringing someone interesting home are remote. Which is a bit sad. She chugs down from the bottle and smiles at a blonde girl nearby who smiles back – she’s familiar. Where did Skye know her from?

“Hey!”, Skye approaches the girl – can’t remember her name.

“Skye, didn’t expect to see you here”, the girl is clearly holding her enthusiasm.

“Why not? It’s supposed to be a cool party”, the girl smiles a bit stupidly.

“Supposed? Aren’t you having fun?”

“I can think about better things to do with my time”, it wasn’t the intention to sound as a flirt, but it totally does, so let’s see how things go from here.

“Like what?”

“Do you want me to show you? Let’s go, then”, she grabs the girl by the hand and finds her way through the crowd of people.

Now, with the girl half naked on her bed, Skye’s still bored. Fact: the girl’s pretty. Like, very pretty. It isn’t helping. Actually, Skye’s fighting to stay on top just because she thinks she might fall asleep otherwise. That bad. And she’s only doing it so her reputation doesn’t get scarred – if she was sure the girl wasn’t going to tell anyone, she might as well stop it now and go to sleep. Doing this was a terrible idea. Of course, it’s Jemma’s fault. There wasn’t any confusion prior to Jemma. Attraction was so… beautifully predictable. Easy. This girl, for example – Skye’d be attracted to her, it’s a fact. Jemma, not a chance in hell. But yeah, here’s reality screwing all of us up by doing exactly the opposite.

Anger rises through Skye’s body, who in her drunken haze can’t tell that her logic doesn’t make any sense, nor keep reality and fantasy apart. She looks at the girl across from her, who to her surprise, is Jemma herself. She looks a tad scared. Excellent, Skye smirks. She bites the girl’s neck – that is going to leave a mark. Skye licks her ear, earning a loud moan, “do you have any idea what you do to me?” She hears Jemma’s weak ‘no’. Of course she doesn’t know. Skye herself is surprised. “Well, let me show you what I’ve been dying to do to you”, Skye jumps ahead and caresses the girl’s very wet knickers. No courtesy, no foreplay. She’s sick and tired of both. What Jemma Simmons really needs right now is a good, raw fuck.

That’s exactly what she gets.

Skye kisses the girl fiercely and skilfully pushes her knickers aside to insert a pair of fingers into her, which went effortlessly, since the girl was dripping. She breaks the kiss and watches intently as Jemma reacts to her every stroke. She grabs the back of her head, not allowing the girl to lose focus.

“Look at me”, and she starts stroking harder – Jemma can barely keep her eyes open, or silent. Her moans get more urgent and Skye brings her near. She throws her arms around Skye and they kiss again, respecting the rhythm of Skye’s movements. Skye, pro that she is, uses the moment to slip a third finger. The intensified pressure makes Jemma arc her back, the perfect opportunity for Skye to suck and bite her breasts. The moans get louder and Skye’s proud – she likes to make people lose it, in one way or another. The contraction of muscles tell Skye Jemma’s close… tsc, tsc, too easy. Not now, Jemma – and Skye ceases her efforts, grinning mischievously.

The girl’s panicked to wake up from her steady path to orgasm with a complete interruption of stimuli. What the hell! Skye’s just smirking back, as she goes down her belly, and her inner thighs. Oh, sweet torture. She amuses herself by seeing how much she can make the girl whimper – she nibbles and bites the area nearby her core, only releasing a seldom hot breath in that direction. It’s driving her nuts.

“Please!”, she finally musters. Skye’s inclined on not obeying, but it’s so close, she’s so aroused, it must taste so good. She can’t resist – and she doesn’t. She begins by taking a tongueful of wetness, which she spends seconds spreading around in her mouth, as a true connoisseur. The lack of contact for those seconds makes the girl stir – who said torture couldn’t be fun? She tongues the external parts first, light as a feather, getting closer and closer to the source of wetness. She reaches the clitoris and starts playing with the tip of her tongue with it. She then gives it a nice big lick, using the upper part of her tongue to generate more friction – she’d forgotten how good she was at that. Finally, she looks up – Jemma’s melted under her control, and the scene is almost enough for her to orgasm herself. She proceeds to put a finger inside her and make soft movements upwards, while she continues her work on Jemma’s clitoris. She’s so close. So, so… and Jemma comes in her mouth, her body reacting all over from the strong orgasm – tensing and relaxing, in waves. The previous edging had done its job: Jemma can barely react to Skye’s change of position, she just looks at Skye weakly, with a slight smile. Skye smiles herself, and she can’t resist, again – she plants a sweet kiss on the girl’s lips.

Except when she opens her eyes, it’s not Jemma – it was never Jemma on the first place. Now what?

 

Jemma’s phone rings at eight in the morning on a Saturday – even Jemma finds it unholy –, so she lazily taps her nightstand until she grabs it. ‘Guess where am I?’, Sue, of course, ‘No idea’, she replies (or at least something close to it, can’t trust mobile typing half awake, can we?). She receives a picture is response – oh, my… that’s improper. Yes, fully naked Skye wrapped around some sheets. Jemma blushes wildly and jumps from her bed. She stares at the picture dumbly, for minutes, while a mix of emotions fights for dominance. Majorly, shock and hurt. She clearly remembered Skye saying she wasn’t fond of Sue; it even was in the deal she proposed – ‘I’d even talk to your creepy-stalker friend’, were her words. She remembers thinking if Skye would do it and not brag to her, she might be a decent person, and she might actually like Jemma. Everything comes crashing down.

It makes Jemma realise something even worse: she cares about all of it – she cares about Skye being a decent person, and liking her. Jemma can’t believe herself.

‘Oh, wow’, she replies after all of it. Then it hits her. Her phone ringing, the girl is two floors away, but the windows were open. She stumbles to silence it, ‘how was it?’, she finally replies and hopes that the girl doesn’t make the connection.

‘Wonderful! She’s so sexy and dominant. She gave me a bite that’s going to stay for a long time’, ugh, details, ‘She’s waking up, gotta go’, Jemma stares at the sequence of messages again, in particular the photo. She never wondered how Skye looked naked but, for the record, it was impressive. Frustratingly enough, Jemma couldn’t tear her eyes from the picture.

 

Never had someone a headache so overwhelming, Skye believes. She can’t remember a thing from the previous night besides the fact that she drank a lot and had sex. With someone. A blonde.

“Morning”, the blonde… oh, fuck. Of all the fucking blondes in the fucking world, really? Didn’t she recognise her? Yes, her, Jemma’s best friend, Sue.

“Morning”, she says back, less enthusiastically than she intended. Even in all her prowess to deal with people, she can’t really get out of the situation – so she chooses to buy some time, “So, breakfast?”

“Sure”

“So can we go out properly some other time?”, Sue finally asks after the minutes of silence at the table.

“Oh, sure, yes, but you must know something first: I don’t do relationships”, Skye focuses on spreading the butter on the piece of bread way too intently, “I mean, it was fun and all, but committing is not my thing”

“Not even after what you said?”, the most hated phrase in morning afters, for sure. Skye stares at her blankly, rummaging through her head. Not a clue.

“Err… sorry, what did I say? I think I had one too many”

“Oh”, she looks genuinely sad, “that you fantasise about me”, she then moves her gaze to her cup of coffee. Goddamnit.

“I do”, Skye states very convincingly, “but I don’t do relationships. In fact, I almost never go out with people. And you probably know that”

“Yeah, I know”, she doesn’t seem much more interested. The hurt in the girl’s eyes reminds Skye why she hates doing this, “you shouldn’t have said that”

“Why? It’s true, but it doesn’t mean I want a relationship”

“Because… you know what? Nevermind, I better get home”

“All right, let me show you the door”, Skye closes the door behind her and sighs – why would she say that to the blonde? She tries to focus on the events of the previous night, but everything is very blurry and her head pounding doesn’t really help. She really needs proper breakfast. Even more than she needs to avoid Jemma.

“Jemma, can you make me some breakfast?”, she goes downstairs, still in her robe. The girl ignores, apparently – or she didn’t hear. Skye walks to her room and knocks on the door, repeating the request. Jemma opens in a brute move, and looks Skye in the eye, with a feeling Skye can’t recognise.

“Yes, ma’m”, for the first time in a long time, Skye’s uncomfortable. She thinks about making a joke about the stove and fire, but she censors herself. She fidgets and stares at Jemma while the girl’s making pancakes – she has this patterned pyjamas on, and wears socks to sleep. She looks kind of funny with her ponytail all over the place. And the weirdest thought strikes: Skye imagines herself standing up and helping her with the pancakes, like a couple. A normal couple. Err… no. Big no.

“How was your night? Jamie told you had a friend over”, she’d normally avoid small talk – it’s considered effort, and we agreed that no further effort was to be made for Jemma Simmons – but anything to shove that thought away.

“Good, thank you”, she flips the pancake and proceeds with ignoring Skye.

“Aren’t you going to join?”, Skye asks as Jemma puts the pancake on her plate, “you’re welcome to”

“I’m going back to sleep, actually, but thank you”

“Hey, hold on”, Jemma stops, but doesn’t turn, “did I do something wrong? I mean, you seem like you really hate me now, instead of plain old hate me”, Skye’s as surprised as Jemma to hear those words from her. Jemma turns and sighs.

“You’re a selfish, self-obsessed person, though you seemed like an honest selfish, self-obsessed to me. I was wrong, apparently”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t lie to you!”, maybe omitted the sexual fantasies would be more accurate, but not lying.

“Didn’t you?”

“About what?”

“You said you loathe my best friend. Then you go and sleep with her”

“Wait, are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous! Don’t be ridiculous! I’m disappointed that you pretended you disliked her and still became her friend because of me…”, Jemma stops her babbling to realise she didn’t want to say that, or have this conversation.

“But I did!”

“And how do we get to the part where you sleep with her?”

“You are so jealous!”

“You are so full of yourself! I like to trust people, Skye – and you’re making it hard”

“So I needed a fuck, okay? I ran into her at a party and things kind of happened”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! You needed a fuck!”, I did, because of you. Okay, that was almost sappy, so shut up, brain.

“Yeah, so what?”

“You know she’s obsessed with you, right? So you’re worse than I thought!”

“Listen, Jemma, I was super drunk – I didn’t recognise her yesterday. I was as shocked as you are this morning”, she’s almost laughing at this point.

“It doesn’t make it better, Skye”

“I’m telling the truth, at least give me that. It’s hard as fuck, okay? I really wanted a no strings attached thingy, but when you’re a fucking rockstar, it doesn’t happen, ever. I was going insane yesterday”, Jemma doesn’t seem like she cares. Good, because if she made the link from that last part, we’d be in trouble.

“I don’t care, Skye, just don’t hurt my friends”


	7. Rockstar handicap, or lack of thereof

“Just don’t hurt my friends” – the phrase keeps on echoing through Skye’s mind. She’s kind of sorry, but she kind of doesn’t know how to make it better. I mean, she did wind up in the covers of all gossip magazines: a beautiful picture of her and Sue entering her car. This week was going to be a media nightmare. Sigh.

The worse of it all is that you can’t trust discretion from anyone. Unless… an idea popped into her mind. A despicable one. She knocks on Jemma door.

“I thought I was clear on the ‘I really hate you’ and the ‘I’m going back to bed’ parts”

“You were… pristine”

“That doesn’t even make…”

“I’ll be quick, then, but you have to sit down”, Jemma opens the door unenthusiastically, and they both sit on Jemma’s bed.

“Okay…”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, okay? The thing is… with the current situation, this is fucking impossible. This town’s a giant fan club. But I need to clear my head – I’m getting crazy without sex with anyone”, Jemma blinks a few times, overwhelmed, because in her fast processing mind, she thinks she knows where this is going. It can’t be. Even Skye wouldn’t dare… right?

“Right”

“So how about we make a deal…”, Jemma eyes her suspiciously, “I need someone discreet to have sex occasionally and you’re…”, slap! Yes, slap across Skye’s million dollar face. She reaches for her cheek, surprised Jemma can hit that hard.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“You could’ve said no politely, too, you know?”

“No, I couldn’t! You’re asking me to… argh, I can’t even say it! Of course not! Why don’t you hire a real prostitute? Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”, and get a new, real maid while at it, Jemma almost adds – too bad she really needs the job.

“Believe me, I’ve tried. The media had a field day, it was awful”

“Well, too bad for you – get yourself a vibrator then. Now please, if you excuse me, I would like to sleep and pretend this didn’t happen”, did she actually hear Jemma say the word ‘vibrator’ or it was just a hallucination? Before she can reason about it, she’s pushed out and the door’s slamming on her nose.

That went well.

 

This is the hard part. The part Skye’s been avoiding all week. That’s why she’s here, at the studio, at one in the morning, perfecting her newest song. She doesn’t want to face Jemma and the fact that she screwed badly with her – twice. Somehow, messing up with Jemma was a big deal in Skye’s head, probably because Jemma didn’t give Skye the “rockstar handicap”: when Skye offends her, she retorts and that’s… new. She fucking slapped Skye across the face, for fuck’s sake! That never happened!

It’s kind of… cool. Like, freakin’ cool.

“Hey”, Skye says sheepishly when Sue opens the door the next day, “can we talk?”

“Is there something to talk about?”

“I think so – I’m sorry I hurt you”

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry. Now can I come in?”, she opens the door and they both sit on opposite sides of the sofa, “So, I was a jerk – I didn’t think it through, and I was horny, and…”, in case you didn’t notice, Skye’s terrible with apologies. Terrible.

“Have you ever apologised before?”, Skye thinks for a bit – of course, super fan knows about her ex-girlfriend’s complaints.

“I know, I know – I’m famous for not apologising; can we not make a big deal out of this? It’s hard enough to do it without the big deal part”

“Sure, sure”

“Look, I should’ve made it clear that I wanted a one night stand, from the beginning. And I shouldn’t ramble while drunk, but that’s hard…”, Sue chuckles, “And yeah, sorry about all of that”

“Apology accepted”

“Cool, thanks. Listen, Sue, I do want to give you a piece of advice before I leave: you’ve got yourself one of the best friends you could wish for, so keep her close, and take care of her”

“Jemma?”, Skye nods.

“Take care of yourself, too – don’t let rockstar jerks break your heart”, she says it with remorse, and Sue responds with a small smile.

When she leaves, she feels lighter, and strangely happy. She tells her driver to take her home – after a week of late hours at the studio, he’s a bit surprised. She gets home to a surprise – Jemma has two suitcases by the door.

No, no, please don’t.

Please.

“Please don’t”, she says it out loud accidentally; she doesn’t regret it, this time.

“Why shouldn’t I?”, she puts both her hands on her hips.

“Because I need you here”, it’s honest, raw, and Jemma’s confused. She tries not to show she was touched by it.

“I’m sure you can find better maids than me – actually, it shouldn’t be hard at all”

“It’s not about that”, Skye stares at her intensely and now she can fully understand the Princess Charming stuff – whoa, when was the last time she breathed? “I’m a better person with you around”

“No you aren’t – you asked me to be your prostitute last week”

“And I feel terrible for it. I know I’m wrong and I’ve been avoiding you, instead of saying something. I was pretty ashamed, so that’s how bad I felt”

“That’s not enough. Actually, I don’t think you even feel that bad – I think you’re doing theatrics because you’re about to lose something”, when Jemma says it, Skye realises that, if it was any other situation, she’d be right.

“No, that’s not true”, Skye’s on the verge of crying, because she realises nothing she can say or do would change anything, or make the girl believe her, “Jamie, could you come upstairs, please?”, Skye says on her phone, and Jemma’s puzzled, but she doesn’t say anything – instead they both wait for the large man to show up, “Jemma’s about to leave, please help her with her bags and take her wherever she wants – make sure she gets there safe”, and she heads upstairs, not looking back.

Jemma knows Jamie’s calling her, but she’s mesmerised with the stairs, the same ones Skye just went up. She seemed so sad, and she was so courteous. Believing it was all an act became harder.

“You two”, Jamie tscs.

“What, sorry?”, She snaps out and looks at the grinning man.

“Nah, don’t mind me, Jemma, I’m just here observing. You two are too transparent, it’s funny”, Jemma’s not very amused by the comment.

“How so?”

“Never mind, never mind”, ugh, she hates these types of comments, “So, where to?”

“Nowhere. I think I’m staying”

“Good, because if someone can talk some sense into Skye, it’s you”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Me? I didn’t say a thing, did I?”, he grins and disappears through the door.

 

Skye wakes up the next day with a call from Jamie, reminding her she has a flight to catch. Not in the mood. Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door – uncharacteristically light for Jamie. Skye throws a pillow on her head and keeps on trying to sleep. Ugh, why doesn’t the world give her a break? She’s… tired from… doing nothing yesterday. Yeah, that’s it. No knocks in a few minutes, they must’ve given up – great!

Then she feels the light touch on her arm, “Skye, you’re going to lose your flight”, Jemma says gently, but it still makes Skye jump a couple feet high and grasp the covers.

“You”, long pause – very articulate, Skye, “are here. Why?”, Jemma thinks for a bit.

“I don’t know, but don’t make me change my mind”, Skye finds herself genuinely smiling.

“Thanks. For staying, I mean”, she looks at Jemma’s hand, still on the bed, and has a brief thought of reaching for it. Fortunately, it goes away.

“Not that it matters, you’re going away for three weeks”, Skye seems shocked, which Jemma finds amusing – it’s been on her calendar all this time.

“Oh, yea, that”, she pouts and frowns adorably, “you should come with me”, that’s… surprisingly cute. What’s the catch? “I mean”, and she looks away, “you do make me a bearable person. Almost”, Jemma’s heartened, but Skye’s screwed her up before, so better safe than sorry.

“Skye, I’m your maid – this doesn’t make any sense. You don’t need a maid in a hotel”

“Bah, you and your logic”, she puffs. Yes, like a small child, “okay, I don’t have a good reason for you to come, besides wanting you to. Please”, since when have this intense stare trick started work so well on Jemma? It’s the second time in two days!

“All right, I’ll go”, Jemma admits her defeat with a content smile.

“Awesome”, there’s an uncomfortable silence after Skye’s reply, and Jemma kind of understands what Jamie meant the day before. So, yes, there’s a huge sexual tension that she’d never noticed before. When did that happen?

“So, I have to get dressed. See you in a bit”, Jemma stands up abruptly and prepares to leave.

“You seem dressed to me”, Skye smirks, and Jemma knows that she first thought of it as a flirt – as in ‘you seem too dressed to me’. Guess this awareness of the sexual part puts things in a very different light.

“I don’t want to catch a flight looking like your maid”

“Suit yourself”

Jemma reaches her room, a little overwhelmed. First, she agreed to a three week trip to a person that she’s not that fond of, for some reason (she seems to have forgotten that tiny little detail when Skye had her eyes locked with her)… second, she felt dumb for not noticing all the tension before – she starts a mental retrospect and the day she was reading at the last floor jumps to her memory. Her jaw falls in disbelief when she realises that, yes, the rockstar was all hot and bothered. Because of her – oh, my... that’s why she needed a fuck on the same day.

The revelations stack up in Jemma’s mind, and everything seems clearer. Not that this makes the path ahead less blurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tough to write - it took me sometime to get from 'Skye being the absolute jerk' (I had loads of fun writing that scene, was one of the few scenes that I had in my mind since the beginning, slap in the face included) to a place where the story wasn't completely disrupted, with Jemma being gone forever.
> 
> Believe me, after that, the only thing Jemma could do was quit. No exceptions. But her quitting meant no Skimmons ! So, yea, I had to find a way to say true to her character, true to Skye's character (in this story's incarnation of her) and make them figure it all out.
> 
> I really hope I achieved all that - please let me know what you think :D And, as usual (and I know it's repetitive, but I really insist on that), thank you guys for all the support, and even the criticism. I mentioned in the comments (I might have forgotten to put it here) that you're free to criticise spelling, plot points, etc. Please do. The warnings in the beginning just implied that I'm not going to correct them right away, I prefer to finish the story first :) After that, it's polish time!


	8. Levels of Wrongness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter it's almost criminal :) enjoy, people!

Jemma’s intuition is very clear on this: even the thought of sleeping with Skye is a bad idea. Not that it never occurred, but it was never this frequent. In the past ten minutes, there were good three times when it just popped on Jemma’s head. She’s not sure why the change – maybe because seeing Skye in her bed with sleepwear is a little derailing of all other thoughts; maybe because of those stupid, deep brown eyes – and the smirk, let’s not forget the smirk; maybe because she just realised she actually has a chance with the girl, which never, ever crossed her mind before.

Whatever the reason is, it’s not important: the important part now is not sleeping with her. Lots of reasons for that – Jemma actually gets pen and paper to jot them down. Seems like someone really needs convincing. She writes ‘Sleeping with Skye, pros and cons’, in a blank piece of paper. Then it hits her: this is ridiculous.

Sleeping with Skye was not an option.

Not that the idea left her head for a full minute, no matter how hard she tried to wave it off. In the car, when Skye touched her arm briefly to show her something, it sent a jolt all over (some places more than others, of course); when Skye offered to carry her bag and their hands touched accidentally, she retracted as if she was allergic to the girl. Finally, here they are, sitting in first class, drinking champagne and Skye’s hand briefly came in contact with her thigh, when the girl was adjusting her own bag on the floor. She didn’t seem to notice, because she kept on frowning at the zipper that wouldn’t close. Jemma did – a little too much.

She takes a rather large sip of her glass.

“You drink?”, Skye has this half smile plastered.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Says the girl in the catholic school uniform. Almost”, Jemma gasps.

“It’s not a catholic uniform… it’s a Burberry skirt!”

“A plait, knee-length one, straight of Blair Waldorf’s senior year closet”

“Who’s closet?”

“Never mind”, and the girl turns and sips her own drink, “oh, cheers, by the way”

“Cheers”, Jemma says back, mildly irritated.

Noticing the tension was possibly the worst thing that could happen to their interactions. Like this one, there were a handful more before they got to the hotel.

“Jemma, you’re acting weird”, oh, that’s great, even Skye noticed!

“I’m… overwhelmed”

“By the thought of sharing a wall with me?”, the flirty smirk, right.

“Oh, yes, absolutely – can’t begin to fathom how I will survive that. I might want to kill you by the end of the week, and I don’t think I’m a good fit for prison”, Skye smiles and it wrinkles her nose, which has all the effect that the lame flirt didn’t.

“So, dinner in an hour? Wear something nice, the restaurant here is snobbish”

“You’re taking me out to dinner?”

“Do you prefer to order in and have groundbreaking sex, darling?”

“Skye, this is so improper – you’re my boss”

“It was a joke! C’mon, this one was very obvious”

“You did ask me to be your…”

“Ah, not this again! I apologised already, what else do you want me to do?”

“About dinner – are you sure you want to be sharing a table with a girl in public? In a fancy restaurant?”

“I’ll phone room service and warm up the bed, then”, she winks. Seriously, winking? This is getting too tacky!

“Can’t you be serious for a single moment? It’s not me who’s going to end up in every cover of every blog on the internet! I mean, technically, I would too, but it’s you people are going to talk about”

“C’mon, Jemma, people aren’t going to think you’re actually sleeping with me”, Jemma frowns, curious about what’s coming up next, “I mean, look at you – you’re not the type of girl rockstars go for”, Jemma then opens her mouth, but in her fury, nothing comes out for a while. She closes her eyes.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right. And you know why’s that? Because people like you have no chance in hell with people like me, and are not that fond of rejection, are we?”

“You’re kidding, right? I can get a girl like you with a snap of my fingers”

“Really? I wonder why I don’t remember the marvelous sex… oh, that’s because we never had it”

“Oh, wait, you’re actually assuming that I want it – that’s cute!”, Jemma looks at Skye, trembling in anger. Her eyes squint and she’s concentrating not to cry. In the seconds she doesn’t say anything, realisation hits Skye – hard. She’s done it again.

“You’re horrible”, she finally says quietly.

“Jemma… I’m… I’m… I’m so sorry”, she nears the girl and tries to caress her chin, only to have her slapped away.

“Please stay away”, she notices the tears running through the girl’s cheeks.

“No, please, no – listen, that’s not true. What I said. And I hate the fact but yeah, you’re so out of my league, So much better than me, it’s shameful.”, Skye wipes a tear from Jemma’s cheek and envelops Jemma’s hand in hers, ”I… I really meant what I said, you do make me a better person, because you’re so, so good at heart. Really, you shouldn’t even be here, putting up with me but here you are, proving that, yet again, you’re the wonderful person who I don’t deserve”, there’s something in Skye’s eyes in that moment, in the way they’re locked with Jemma’s, it’s so sincere and desperate, and heartwarming. It makes Jemma want to kiss Skye; very, very much. Little does she know that Skye is on the exact same page.

“Don’t ever say that again”, Jemma waves away the thought first.

“I promise I won’t”, and there’s a familiar glint in the girl’s eyes that alerts Jemma, “from now on, I’ll always fully admit how much I want to sleep with you”, the blatant tone makes Jemma blush furiously.

“You’re impossible!”

“What! It’s true! You said it yourself – I even asked you to…”

“Go fetch dinner, I’ll be in my room taking a break from your irritating self”

“Oh, is that what you kids call it these days?”, Jemma merely grunts in frustration and closes the door forcefully.

 

“Milady, I have dinner”, Jemma opens the door without thinking much.

“Oh, marvelous, I…”, she notices Skye is surprised, to say the least. She looks down on herself – oh, right, pyjama trousers, perfect moment to forget them, “Don’t. Say. Anything”, and she closes the door.

“Right, so dinner, great, I’m starving”, she looks at Skye, who still is a bit flabbergasted.

“Yeah, sure, dinner”, the girl finally says, and she turns to lead the way to the table. About ten minutes in, they both haven’t uttered a word, and Skye decides to finally break the ice, “that’s a nice pair of underwear…”, and earns a slap on the upper arm.

“What part of don’t say anything you didn’t get?”

“Sorry, sorry, just remarking on it. I just imagined you being more… boring with lingerie. You know, plain cotton, no adorns – typical geeky ‘I don’t have time for this’. Not lacy Victoria Secret.”

“Well, some geeks like to look pretty”

“Damn those!”, she says quietly, earning a laughter from Jemma, “you could apply the concept to the rest of your outfit, you know?”

“Your rudeness never ceases to shock me”

“I’m serious! I mean, you look hot in that underwear, very hot, but I can’t tell you’re hot normally. It’s like you’re trying to hide it”

“I am – imagine how my life would be infernal if more people like you realised that”

“You’d probably have the palm of your hand permanently red from slapping them all. And I’d be jealous – I like to be the only constantly infuriating person in your life. Cheers to that, by the way”, she raises the glass of wine.

“To you being insufferable? No way I’m say cheers to that”

“No, to you and all your patience; and hotness – why not?”

“This is still so improper”

“You started it, this time, so bear it”, Jemma chuckles and they clink their glasses.

 

One thing people don’t know about Jemma is how horny she gets when she had a couple of drinks – not that she drinks that often to make people aware of it, or shows it when she does drink. After half a bottle of wine, in a somewhat tense setting, by the time she got to dessert, she was almost pushing it aside and straddling her boss. However, that would be very, very improper (deliciously improper, too), so she contented herself with rubbing her thighs together discreetly (any sign of arousal in that moment would have disastrous consequences – of the deliciously improper kind) and hope that the chocolate cake would give her all the immediate pleasures she needed.

It didn’t, so as soon as dinner was over, she wished Skye goodnight and locked her door gently.

This was so wrong on so many levels.

However, she couldn’t take her mind off the possibility of pushing the dessert aside and straddling her boss. It was so irresistibly wrong. She’d take advantage of Skye’s complete mesmerising with her accidental lack of clothing – she’d toss the trousers aside and show, again, the Victoria Secret underwear that Skye appreciated so. The knickers that, yes, she might or might not have put on in case something happened between them; in a foolish moment of indecision, and a little before scrapping the idea of sleeping with the rockstar.

Those same knickers that were now on the floor of her bedroom, because she desperately didn’t want anything in the way while she fingered herself imagining that she was in Skye’s lap, and that the girl was doing the job, and holding her close at the same time. Oh, dear, this is so…

Her mobile. Not now. Jemma let it ring, but whoever it was, it was very insistent.

“Hello”, she still has the pair of fingers inside her.

“Explain yourself”, okay, that might take a while so let’s remove them, shall we?

“Sue, hi! I didn’t expect…”

“Jemma, I’m not kidding”

“Wait, wait – explain what?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not drunk, maybe a bit altered… I had some wine”

“With Skye”

“Yes”

“How could you? You backstabber…”

“What? It’s just wine, it’s not like we’re shagging or anything!”

“Then how come there’s a picture of you and her in a hotel in California?”

“Oh, yes, that. She asked me to come with her”, Sue hangs up and Jemma’s forced into sobriety to deal with the situation.

“Sue, thank goodness! Listen, you got it all wrong”, the girl only picked up the phone after Jemma’s tenth try.

“Did I? You’re not having an affair with Skye then”

“No! I’m not! She’s my boss”

“Your what?”

“My boss. I know, I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry”

“Why would Skye employee you?”

“She felt bad about me losing my job, and making fun of me for it, and offered me one – that’s it”

“And why does she need a biochemist?”

“She doesn’t – she does need a babysitter, though”, Sue chuckles and Jemma relaxes, “Please don’t tell anyone about it, it’s embarrassing”, and the conversation flows normally, with Jemma telling Sue about some events of the past weeks.

When she hangs up, a pang of guilt runs over – she was seriously considering sleeping with Skye, and hurting her best friend. Who knew this could get on yet another level of wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of actual notes:  
> I LOVED writing Skimmons fighting scene - it was one of those writer moments when you go like "wow, they fighting and I can't do a bloody thing!" and people ask you "but haven't you planned it?", and you go, "no, it just sort of... happened". Super awesome! So much chemistry, that moment - I'm proud of my girls :)
> 
> About Jemma opening the door in her underwear - I'm aware that it's a bit over the top, but what the heck, this is kind of porn (sorry folks, it is), so I feel it should inherit the comical awfulness of the genre sometimes (which makes me think this is a genius excuse for sloppiness, but I'll try to refrain from overusing it).
> 
> Finally, please feel free to criticise to your heart's content, to comment, to give me ideas - all of those are valid :) See you next time, folks!  
> PS: I'm super happy with my fight scene, I might have sounded overly cheery


	9. It's the way you look at me

Skye wakes up early the next day, so early that Jemma’s still sleeping. Jemma’s such a complicated subject in Skye’s head. She had the strong (and increasing) sexual attraction going on, yes. However, that was acknowledged and accepted already. It was the other part that was tensing her up.

Ever since Jemma made pancakes for her, weird thoughts have been popping into her head. Of the romantic kind. It would be a random situation, like Jemma opening the shades of their… her apartment, and Skye finding herself just observing how she’d stand on top of her toes, even if that was completely unnecessary, and smiling contently.

Or that other time, when Jemma was cleaning a particularly high shelf, and the chair rocked dangerously, so Skye ran to hold it for her, smiling back when Jemma flashed her dimples and said a very polite ‘thank you so much’. She found it so… cute that the girl hurried her cleaning process just because it was slightly inconvenient for Skye to hold the chair for some minutes. Of course, when she finished, she thanked Skye again.

No, actually scratch that one – it never happened (but it was conjured in Skye’s mind, when thinking of Jemma, just so you know how bad the situation is). Truth is: Jemma and Skye never had such a pacific, friendly interaction, and Skye knows she’s to blame for it.

She knows she screwed up – over and over again.

However, she knows where the path ahead leads, and to say she doesn’t like it is an understatement.

She looks at Jemma’s door before leaving, thinks about leaving a note, but she dismisses the thought as soon as it appears. Not going there.

During the studio session, she’s distracted. Her mind keeps wandering to the all the things she said to Jemma, and the girl crying. She can’t shut how horrible it makes her feel.

“You all right, rookie?”, Fred, her trusted bass player, asks during their interval, then takes the seat by her side.

“Four years and I still haven’t lost this nickname?”

“Nope. Never”, he smiles and gets a punch on his arm, “lemme guess: girl trouble”

“It’s way more complicated than that”

“I somehow don’t believe you, but Imma let you explain”, he hunches over his arms to listen to her better.

“Ugh, no, Fred, I don’t want to explain”, she cringes.

“Of course you don’t – that’d probably make it insanely clear how simple things actually are, and we don’t want that, do we?”

“Fuck you”

“I miss you too, rookie”, he pulls the girl into a bro hug. Skye then looks up and sees Jemma standing there, rather awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…“, she has Skye’s favourite guitar case in her hand, “Here, Jamie said you requested this for your second session”, Skye stands up to grab the case, and their hands touch briefly. The simple scene seems to be slow, and Skye’s hyper aware of everything concerning Jemma.

“I did, thanks”, she flashes her rockstar smile, trying to dismiss the heavy atmosphere.

“I guess I see you later”, Jemma tilts her head a bit.

“Yeah, let’s grab dinner together”, she tries to sound as informal as she can without having to add ‘bro’ or ‘dude’.

“Great”, Jemma smiles fully again, and leaves hurriedly. Skye only notices she’s watching her when she hears Fred roaring laughter.

“She’s pretty, rookie; pretty far from your type, that is”

“She’s my… assistant”, Skye considers saying maid, but she then realises how much sense it doesn’t make to fly your maid over with you.

“Assistant? Riiight, I see”, he leans back and grins, “C’mon, rookie, you can’t really hide how into her you are. Strike her with your charms, pretty sure she’ll fall on your bed in five seconds”, the comment irritates Skye. A lot. She’s about to tell him to have some respect and shut up, then she realises how whipped that would sound.

“I don’t know, Fred”, she puts on a smut cover-up smile, “I’d totally do her, but then I’d have to find a new assistant. Too much work”, he chuckles, indicating she pulled it off.

Whipped. Now that’s a word that stayed glued on her brain for the rest of the day.

“Rookie, let’s go for some beers! Hopefully it’ll make you feel like you again”, she looks at her phone – seven thirty, “unless you really want to have dinner with your assistant”, he mocks. The rest of the band joins in.

“You have a new assistant, Skye? Is she hot?”, “The Brit kid, really? I thought you were strictly superficial when choosing women; apparently not even that!”, the comments mix in Skye’s head and she’s overwhelmed. She wants to tell them all to shut the fuck up, she wants to make dinner with Jemma, but admitting she wants to prioritise the girl to herself and her guy friends is too big of a step.

“Fuck it, let’s go for beers”

“Fucking finally! Welcome back, rookie!”

Getting to the bar – their favourite in town –, she rushes to the toilet, and writes a message to Jamie: ‘Please, please take Jemma to dinner in that awesome Thai restaurant in fifteen minutes – I can’t go tonight’; then, to Jemma: ‘Hey, I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to make it. The guys really miss me and want to hang out in a bar tonight. I do hope we can go out to dinner tomorrow night instead’. She presses send before she regrets it.

She still can’t shake the feeling that she’s being a jerk, for the millionth time, with Jemma. The image of the girl crying and the echoes of ‘you’re horrible’ roam through her head.

So. Fucking. Whipped.

It doesn’t matter – she has to make it up to Jemma.

She phones the restaurant, “hey, this is Skye, can I talk to Chalerm, please?”, the head chef comes to the phone.

“Skye, I heard you’re in town! When are you going to drop by?”

“Chalerm, great to hear you, man! I thought I was going to tonight, but I won’t be able to, anymore”

“Such a shame!”

“Indeed it is. Listen, Jamie and a guest of mine are going to dine there tonight, please treat them royally”

 

“Jamie, thank you so much, but we didn’t have to come to a fancy restaurant just because Skye predictably ditched me”, she tries to keep his pace, which in heels, is almost impossible.

“You were all dressed up already, I didn’t see why not”, he almost smiles, like always – it’s like it’s a bodyguard stereotype.

“Hello sir, madam, can I have your names please?”, Jemma looks at the infinite amount of people seemingly waiting to be seated and she really is about to tell him, again, that pizza would have been a better option. But it was rude to interrupt, so she stays silent.

“Jamie Kilmister and Jemma Simmons”

“Oh, Mr. Kilmister! We’re glad to have you here again. Would you mind accompanying me?”, the impeccable lady leads them to a secluded room, candle-lit, with a single table in the middle. That is a tad too romantic, isn’t it?

“This setting reminds me of my wife – she loves candle-lit dinners”, he offers to her obvious tension, “we actually been here once, courtesy of Skye. It was an amazing night”, he smiles and she mirrors, appreciating the fondness the man was expressing. They sit across from each other and she’s curious to hear more from the tale.

“How did you two meet?”, she approaches the table.

“We know each other from university. Quite funny, that period. If someone told either of us we’d end up together, we’d have had fits of laughter. We hated each other, deeply. I thought she was an arrogant bitch, she thought I was a brainless jock. But the world goes round, you know?”, she smiles less enthusiastically, because she didn’t miss the innuendo.

“Jamie, I know what you think, about me and Skye”, she purses her lips a bit, her discomfort with the subject very evident, “but I think we don’t match. At all. She has said so many horrible things to me, I wonder why am I still here”, she then sighs.

“I can imagine”

“I don’t think you can”

“I know Skye surprisingly well, Jemma – she’s a kid, a coward kid. If she said some horrible things to you – and I’m sure she did, her sharp tongue is famous –, it means that she cares enough to say them, and that she’s possibly terrified of something”

“Of what?”

The waiter cuts in with a gorgeous plate, to Jamie’s relief – rule number one about working with Skye was ‘you don’t talk about Skye’ in his mind, so he hopes he hadn’t said too much. The subject dies out and they concentrate on dinner.

“Jamie Kilmister! How is your wife doing?”, the head cook cuts in as soon as they’re done with the main dishes, bringing his carefully crafted dessert.

“She’s great, Chalerm! She’s missing some great Thai food, though”

“Bring her around next time, I’d love to see her again – she has the best stories. And who’s the lovely lady?”

“I’m Jemma, nice to meet you”, she extends her hand to shake his, but he kisses it instead.

“You know, Jemma, you must be really special for Skye to phone in herself and ask for royal treatment for both of you. No offence, Jamie, but we both know it wasn’t for you”, Jemma blushes, looking flabbergasted, “oh, she didn’t tell you that, did she? Typical Skye – that girl never changes. Hope you enjoy your dessert, it’s Skye favourite!”, and he takes off. Jemma stays still, as if the beautiful sweet treat wasn’t in front of her. She stares at nowhere in particular, trying to absorb the information.

“Jemma, eat, it’s very good”, she shakes her head slightly and looks at the man. He grins, “and, if you want to keep the peace, don’t mention this to Skye – ever”

“Why? It was so… sweet”, she smiles slightly, “and unlike her”

Jamie sighs, “only if you promise not to tell anything I said about her”, Jemma nods, “it will scare her off. She hates when people acknowledge that they have some power over her”, the girl rolls her eyes.

“You’re right, she’s a kid”, she smiles slightly, “a kid I want to give something back to”, Jamie raises one eyebrow, “not that, Jamie!”, and they both laugh.

 

Skye arrives quietly at the hotel room, trying not to wake Jemma. She then realises her care was for nothing, when she sees the girl sitting at the table, reading a book.

“Hey”, she puts the book down and removes her porn librarian glasses, smiling contently.

“You’re waiting for me? Wow, I wasn’t expecting that…”, she sounds drunk.

“Impressively, I am. I was sad you couldn’t make it to dinner”

“Yeah, me too”, she joins the girl at the table, still a bit surprised by the situation. Jemma, in turn, is surprised by the honesty of the answer.

“The chef said the dessert was your favourite, and I thought it was a waste to eat it alone. And I thought you would probably need some glucose anyway”, Skye looks at the girl incredulously, then bursts out laughing, “What?”, of all the reactions, Jemma wasn’t expecting this one.

“Of course you thought about my glucose levels!”

“I am a biologist! And frankly, you don’t need to be one to know that! It’s so trivial!”, leave it to Skye to ruin a super cute moment like this one by making a lame joke – Jemma still can’t believe it.

However, when the laughter dies out, Skye flashes a happy smile, “That was really thoughtful of you”, she locks her brown eyes with Jemma’s and does that heart melting, Princess Charming, stare, “like, wow, you’re really something else. I love… this dessert, so thank you”

Once again, the kiss occurs in both girls’ minds (only), as they share from the same plate, both with the same discreet sappy grin plastered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this note will be particularly long... for those who don't want to read it all, skip to "Random comments for this chapter".
> 
> I reflected a lot on this chapter, because of one comment that I found particularly thought provoking, and useful for me to see another side to the story I wasn't quite grasping (thank you very, very much for that). 
> 
> It's no secret I'm fond of characters that are perceived as mean, but good at heart (Samantha, from Slytherin Girl, being my shining example for that); I usually have this very clear in my head, and I can't pass it very well (yet one more item for the polish), but I know they are good, so I trust people will get that too (through guessing, because the characters themselves only do bitchy things). When I wrote Slytherin Girl, my beta reader was sort of outraged by Samantha, and urged me to convince people that Samantha was actually a nice girl in a tough position (which doubled the size of the story). It seems I'm pretty much doing the same here, with Skye. 
> 
> I observed something from my reflection: I hardly expose Skye's point of view anymore, which I think makes it harder to empathise with her (and since she's very selfish the majority of the story, it's rather important that people do, otherwise it just looks like pointless cruelty); so, yes, this chapter starts with Skye's point of view because of that and, hopefully, I can bring some more flesh into the character next chapters as well;
> 
> Did it work? I'm not sure, I found the chapter very heart warming – I had this urge to listen to Nat King Cole when I finished it –, but I'm biased, so you guys tell me :)
> 
> Random comments from this chapter:  
> 1\. I love writing Jamie, he's so cool :D If this wasn't a romance fic, I'd promote him to major character.  
> 2\. 'rookie', ha! - actually: “She’s pretty, rookie; pretty far from your type, that is” (let's face it, Fred's a jerk, but he's funny)  
> 3\. “a kid I want to give something back to”, Jamie raises one eyebrow, “not that, Jamie!” - did I mention Jamie's awesome yet?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading :D! As usual, I truly appreciate kudos and comments, so thank you so much for those! People expecting smut for this chapter: sorry :( no smut. I'm convinced I'm terrible at planning (I thought this chapter was going to be completely different, with guest star and all), so I won't make any promises.


	10. The scariest word in the dictionary

“Good morning, Jemma”, Jamie smiles from the driver’s seat.

“What’s so incredibly important it couldn’t wait for me to finish my book?”, she looks grumpy, at best.

“I assume Skye neglected to tell you – not surprised. She insists that you attend a gala tonight, with her”, Jamie can’t really hide his amusement, nor does he try to.

“I swear I sometimes believe she’s making voluntary effort to make people believe we’re sleeping together”, she says it out loud unintentionally. Jamie chuckles and she forces a smile, not fond of the fact that she actually said it, “Jamie, could you take me to see Skye?”

“Right away, Jemma”, can we stop for popcorn on the way?

 

“Can we talk?”, Skye looks up, surprised to hear Jemma’s voice, especially because she’s interrupting Skye’s conversation with Fred. We know Jemma: she finds interrupting rude, so for her to make an interruption herself, it must be pretty damn important.

Skye mutters a quick ‘sure’ and stands up, a bit worried about Fred’s point of view of the situation – he seems to have forgotten all issues concerning Jemma so far, with Skye standing her up last night, but his badly muffled laughter tells Skye this is about to change. Jemma notices it, of course, and shoots him a look that is a cross between incredulity and annoyance. On the other hand, Jemma seems pretty darn serious about something, so screw Fred. Jemma’s more concerning, by far. 

She follows the girl into a secluded corner, the silence making her very uncomfortable. “So I’m guessing you desperately need a quickie”, she cracks and smirks, trying to hide that fact.

“You’re actually hoping, and no, I really don’t. I desperately need to know about this gala you’re supposedly taking me and didn’t bother to ask me”

“Yeah, I guess I kind of forgot”, Skye makes a face, “but you’re coming, right? I can ask properly, if you really want me to”, she half-smiles and shrugs.

“Why do you want me to go?”, Skye’s body language closed completely after hearing the question, “I’m not good at socialising, and whether you believe it or not, people will jump to conclusions – I’m guessing your band mate is already in that process”, Jemma places a hand on her hip and frowns, to further emphasize her irritation.

“Oh, Fred? Nah, never mind him, he’s just acting up”, she waves her hand, an encouragement for the girl to let go.

“It’s not about him. I couldn’t care less about him. It’s about your reaction to people like him”, Skye squints her eyes, which makes Jemma realise she shouldn’t have said it.

“I’m not sure I follow”, Skye says, a bit between her teeth. Jemma tenses up, in turn.

“You know those comments put both of us in a terrible situation, Skye. Let’s just try to avoid it, okay?”, she offers to keep the peace.

“No, no, hold on – I really want to hear about my reaction to those comments. You brought it up, now explain”, Jemma takes a deep breath, and drops her shoulders in defeat – she could the fight very clear on the horizon, and there seemed to be no escape from it.

“Whenever people make these comments, you overcompensate to the other side, We end up fighting, you hurt me and I want to avoid all of it”, Skye purses her lips, clearly irritated by how she couldn’t refuse the girl’s flawless logic. She puffs – seriously, puffs – and Jemma can tell she’s this close to crossing her arms as well, to complete the spoiled brat portrait.

After a moment of silence, she avoids Jemma’s gaze and says lowly: “I was just asking you a favour”

“I know, but I want to know why”

“It’s important for me, I want your support”, Skye looks like she might as well dig a hole and bury herself in it in shame. She looks at the floor, “I hate galas, and I think this one would be better if you were there”, she says so quietly that Jemma has to lean in to hear it. When she finishes, she still can’t face Jemma. Jemma, on the other hand, is so pleasantly surprised she barely can hold her grin. Skye glances at her face and notices it, “stop smiling”, she still has the spoiled brat pout on, and honestly, she looks so bloody adorable.

“Hey”, she reaches for Skye’s hand and holds it in her own, giving a reassuring squeeze in the process, “in that case, I’d love to go with you”, and, in a moment of total mental relapse, she leans in and kisses Skye’s cheek. Skye instinctively reaches for the cheek and finally looks at Jemma, who’s impossibly red.

“I… I… oh, my God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, oh, my…”, Jemma stumbles, but Skye’s not listening. At all. In fact, she’s barely thinking. She only grabs Jemma by the waist and gives her a full blown kiss. A heart melting, ponytail-ruining kiss, a kiss that you would expect to receive from a rockstar. Neither of them actually realise what’s happening, and implications, until after a couple of minutes in, when they both jump back, almost at the same time. 

Now Jemma’s impossibly redder.

And Skye, she looks as if she saw a ghost, or worse: actually admitted to Jemma that, yes, she has feelings – not only sexual desires – for her. Feelings. The scariest word in the dictionary. Now that she thinks of it, she’d actually prefer a ghost, or a thousand of them.

“The boys are waiting…”

“And Jamie’s waiting too”, they both say at the same time, then avoid each other’s gaze and head off.

 

“How did the quickie go?”, Fred smirks.

“Well”, she fakes a smile so badly Fred almost laughs, “now, let’s get to work?”

“Hey, rookie, we were sort of waiting for you – just saying”, the bassist added.

“And now you aren’t, anymore”, no matter how bad she tried, her rockstar swag didn’t kick off for a good hour or two. She also feared her meeting with Jemma in the evening, especially Jemma all dressed up for a gala. Mostly, she was terrified of how much insight the kiss gave Jemma, because for her, it felt like she was showing off her entire hand.

Not very far from the studio, Jemma enters the car and hits her head against the headrest frustrated, closing her eyes forcefully.

“Are you okay, Jemma?”, Jamie reminds her of his presence in the car.

“No”, she looks intently ahead, “far from it”

“Skye’s a difficult girl, Jemma, give yourself a break”, he pats her in the shoulder comfortingly. She tries to leave it as it is, and stays quiet, “what has she done, this time?”, he expresses his concern and she can’t hold it back.

“She kissed me, and I kind of kissed back. Completely kissed back”, Jamie opens his eyes widely – even he knew that this was bad news. Super bad news. The backlash for this one was probably going to be heartbreaking. Certainly. He feared for Jemma, and he understood her distress.

“She kissed you? Oh, dear”, Jemma releases her bitten lower lip.

“Yeah, terrible. Anyway, I’m going to the gala with her, and I remember there were some preparations involved”, she tries to push the subject aside and Jamie complies, not daring to touch the subject all afternoon.

 

Later, Skye finds herself at the bar of the hotel, dreading to go upstairs because of the possibility of coming face to face with Jemma. She’s in a rather hidden part, but her full view of its double doors allow her to take in the sight of the very girl she was avoided, escorted by Jamie. The jaw dropping sight of her, that is. She’s in a floor length pink dress, with a high collar; white, elbow length gloves holding a handbag and white, high-heeled shoes. She’s curled the tips of her hair, and it falls lovingly onto the fabric of her dress. Finally, a headband keeps the front strands of her hair in order.

Whoa. When did biochemists become so beautiful again?

Skye looks around, noticing she’s absolutely not the only one who’s gaping at the girl. In fact, it took her a good while to find someone that wasn’t. Also, the whispers in the room grew.

“Do you know that girl, miss?”, an old, elegant man asks.

“I thought I did, but apparently no”, she doesn’t even bother looking at him to provide the answer. That’ll take an inhumane effort.

“She’s beautiful”, he remarks obviously. Skye doesn’t reply, she’s still processing the scene. She watches Jamie lead Jemma to the elevator, where they part ways. She rushes to meet him.

“Skye, aren’t you supposed to be ready?”, she tries to speak, but her mouth doesn’t produce any sounds, so she kind of looks like an idiot. Realising it, she points at the elevator, mouth still a tad opened, “What? Say something”, Jamie’s very amused.

“That’s Jemma”, it’s an affirmative, and it further increases the dumbness of the interaction.

“Nice observations skills you got there”, Jamie can’t really resist, “yes, that’s your… assistant”, he says the word syllabically, just in case she forgets the consequences of whatever she’s thinking about doing to the girl. Little does Jamie know, however, that she’s not really thinking anything about… anything.

“I have to go… get… dressed”, she says very slowly, still not having recovered her brain functions entirely.

“Yes you do”, Jamie smiles almost mockingly.

She opens the door to the room, glad to see that Jemma was in her bedroom, with the door closed. First the kiss, now this – fuck this day, it’s too much for poor Skye. She goes to her room and locks the door, sits down on the bed and brings her hands to her head. She could feel her heart beating fast, the nervousness… everything that pointed to the obvious conclusion yet again: she’s completely smitten.

Officially whipped, now.

She thinks briefly about the possible consequences of going out – for real – with Jemma. Jemma, the girl that, deep down, she thinks it’s out of her league. Now, not so deep down anymore – clearly out of her league. Gosh, who knew Skye would ever say, or think, that about geeky Jemma Simmons, who she was so quick to scrap in the first place.

Jamie’s right: the world does go round.

She needs to talk this through with Jemma. Fuck. And, like clockwork, there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in”, and Princess Jemma, in all her shine, comes through the door.

“We…”

“need to talk”, Skye completes and the girl takes a seat besides her. Skye’s still too overwhelmed to face the girl, so she keeps her gaze safely on the floor.

“I…”, Jemma brings her index finger to the girl’s lips.

“I think you should listen to me first. I really hate the fact that I enjoyed our kiss so much, Skye. I honestly would loved to have wanted to slap you again for it. I didn’t, not even close – it was more like wanting to kiss you again, and again. After all that you’ve said and done to me, this isn’t fair. I don’t deserve to even remotely like you, but I do. I like you so much, and I’m so scared about what you’re going to do with it. So, I beg of you: please don’t break my heart”

Skye lowers her head, mostly to hide the fact that she’s crying – she silently let the tears flow, but as Jemma’s words run through her head again, she sobs, and Jemma finally notices, so she embraces the girl.

“You’re right”, she finally contains the tears. She then kisses Jemma on the cheek, and again, and finally gets to her lips and limits herself to a soft, sweet kiss. She holds Jemma gaze for what seems like forever – she doesn’t know what to say, she feels any apology she might muster wouldn’t fit, and wouldn’t be enough. Not even a combination of all her apologies.

“I won’t break your heart”, she finally says, omitting the ‘even if it means breaking my own’ that followed in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard - like, super hard. I had a plan for it, which went completely down the drain because those two just HAD TO kiss. There was no postponing that event, it would be completely wrong on so many levels. With the kiss, my gala plans were scrapped and I just give up trying to plan something... fuck this planning shit *flips the table* ò.ó.
> 
> This is a moody, angst, drama, etc chapter - sorry about that. I usually hate those but I had to. I mean, both girls were terrified, I wasn't going to make one of them crack a joke all of a sudden (that would be too much porn awfulness for me). However, inarticulate Skye was hilarious to write. And Jamie wins (as he always does).
> 
> The ending of this chapter was so sad I'm sad from it :( damn it! Anyway, a less enthusiastic (albeit as heartfelt as) thanks for reading and the kudos and the comments, you all are lovely and your comments usually crack me up (probably not this time, though... :/). See you guys next time!


	11. Game changers

There was a sad silence in the atmosphere. Skye still has some tears drying from her cheek, which is against Jemma’s shoulder. Jemma’s still holding her close, stroking the beautiful strands of hair. She then detangles herself from Jemma’s embrace and wipes the remaining tears.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that”, she says almost inaudibly, avoiding Jemma’s gaze.

“It’s not like I never broke into tears in front of you, Skye”, she puts a hand in Skye’s shoulder and caresses gently with her thumb.

“Yeah, when I was being a bitch, which is understandable”, Jemma has to focus really hard to hide her surprise, “I’m crying because you’re being… honest, which is lame”, she looks pissed at herself.

“Don’t undermine some honest words’ power to bring someone to tears. Usually when we think people are being honest is when things hurt the most”, Skye reflects on Jemma’s words of wisdom for a while, wondering if the time she brought the girl to tears if was precisely because of that. She decides against asking, though – something tells her it’s not the right move.

“Ah, damn gala – I really want to skip it”, Skye throws her back and close her eyes, still pouting a bit.

“Not even if you could skip it, I wouldn’t allow you to!”, Jemma says in a surprisingly bossy tone, making Skye turn to face the girl, and frown, “I’m all dressed up!”

“It’s not like we can’t change that…”, Skye raises her eyebrows and flashes a smirk, as if the innuendo alone wasn’t clear enough.

“No, no! Stop the lame flirtation and get ready, Skye!”, Jemma stands up and smooths her dress. Skye just takes the moment to get a long stare at the girl – those that go from head to toe, and back, and are usually followed by a wolf whistle (not that Skye would be so tacky with a girl wearing gloves and a floor length dress), “Skye, come on, get up”, she does, and stands very near Jemma.

“Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look today?”, the small corner of the mouth smile; the direct, very sexual stare; the proximity… it was almost making Jemma reconsider the lame flirt. Especially because those jeans looked so… easy… to remove, and her oversized t-shirt was so fine, it was… begging to be ripped apart.

“I believe you’ve failed to mention it”, she tries to smile sweetly, to hide her sexual thoughts but, by Skye’s brief lift of eyebrows, it probably came out more like a smirk – that kind of smirk. Skye grabs her by the waist with both hands on her hips and pulls her closer (impressively, it’s possible). Jemma decides to play her lovestruck, sweet princess part (she was perfectly dressed for it) and throws her arms around the girl’s neck, letting Skye close the space between them.

This kiss, as opposed to the morning one, is tender, relaxed, and fully appreciated by both parts. There’s a lack of rush in the way their lips caress each other: it’s perfectly paced, and it’s the right balance between sweet and passionate. There’s also a playfulness that Skye isn’t expecting from her princess, when she takes a light bite on the rockstar’s lower lip and, as she resumes the kiss, she smiles into it. Skye imagines Jemma’s nose wrinkling from it and the image provokes a smile of her own, and a great moment to break the kiss.

“For the record, you look amazing”, the smile’s still there, and it has a component of helplessness that Jemma finds endearing (not that she’d ever mention it to Skye), “I gotta get dressed”

“You do”, Jemma bites a lame flirt of her own – after all, she was quite fond of Skye’s jeans and t-shirt outfit; she could pull it off without a sweat –, but Jemma does know that Skye is a cocky little bastard, and that inflating her ego was dangerous.

“Don’t miss me too much”, see? That’s precisely what I’m talking about! She pecks the girl’s lips and closes the bathroom door behind her. Jemma, in turn, goes to her own room, where she lays on her bed, trying to fully take in the recent events, in particular the part where Skye went from utter jerk to most charming… err… affair in the world. Not even affair, they’re are at a complete question mark state! For her sanity’s sake, Jemma decides to drop the labelling. There was a bigger, scarier issue at hand: Skye’s sudden change of heart.

It was worrying her – so much she couldn’t drop it. Even when Skye was smiling goofily and telling her how gorgeous she looked. Even when the girl gave her the sweetest kiss. There was something on the back of her mind, a warning flag.

It seemed too… easy. Too abrupt.

She feared that, if she let go too much, Skye’d switch back and then it’d be one mighty fall back to reality.

Skye’s shower, similarly, wasn’t one with the most peace of mind she had, quite the contrary. She could almost hear her insides tossing and turning and screaming for her to stop whatever she was developing with Jemma. Too fast, too dangerous.

Way too dangerous.

The last time she gave up control like this, it was disastrous. True, Jemma isn’t… her – very far from it –, but back in the day, she seemed harmless as well.

Just don’t break her heart.

Skye concurred to the mental reminder. She promised herself she wouldn’t do it, that’s one thing Skye would honour, even at the highest cost. With that wrap, she suffocated all the warnings and resistance yellings, and proceeded with getting dressed to take her lady to the gala.

 

Jemma sat in one of the best places in the audience, which she was sure that Skye’d reserved for her – without saying a word about it, in true Skye fashion. Skye’d left her, by then, because she’d have to prepare for whatever performance she was doing in the gala. But before that, she had been… Princess Charming, for a lack of a better term.

Firstly, she looked stunning, in a black dress with shining adorns, black high-heeled sandals and her hair pulled into an intentionally messy bun, leaving just two shorter strands loose in the front. And here was Jemma, thinking Skye was at her best in her rockstar look – never been so wrong, huh, Jemma? When the girl went out her room, grinning cockily, Jemma couldn’t even object: she lifted her eyebrows and let out a completely unplanned ‘wow’. Skye proceeded to surprise her by replying ‘still not nearly as drop dead gorgeous as you, but quite nice, right?’ to her stupid expression.

Secondly, the entrance of the gala. Skye told Jamie to stay in the car and opened the door to Jemma herself, extending a hand courteously and winking at the girl after saying ‘this is the worst part, and it’s quick, I promise’. Jemma smiled, ear to ear, and together they made their way through the red carpet. 

All the flashes in the party reminded Jemma of Sue, and how what she told Sue before had become a lie. She thought about calling the girl and tell her what’s been happening, but she wasn’t sure what to tell – yes, they kissed a couple of times, but it was thin ice, and Jemma had the feeling it’d remain thin ice for a while. She texted the girl instead, telling her that she was ‘in a gala, with Skye’. Not even a minute later, she received the over enthusiastic response, with a good luck wish. She couldn’t help but feel a bit bad.

Surprisingly, Skye picked up on it – Jemma knows she did, by the concerned look she shot the girl. She then offered to tour the venue to Jemma (‘it’s always in the same place, this thing – people are not very creative, you know’) and told a couple of anecdotes from the years before, and how they related to each of the rooms. By the end of it, Jemma was laughing so hard she was red on the cheeks, and she’d forgotten her issues with Sue completely.

So, yes, Princess Charming – the fan club was right (even though that still is the lamest nickname ever).

She smiles as she pictures the girl’s flawless behaviour during the night, trying to ignore her gut feelings once again.

“Is there anyone sitting here?”, a woman, with black-rimmed glasses, tattoos flashing and red streaks of hair, points to the seat next to her.

“No, no, please take it”, she smiles amicably.

“You’re… new. Never seen you around before”, Jemma nods at the woman’s observation, “Cool! I’m Victoria, but please call me Vic”, she has this smooth, hoarse tone, that seems to come naturally to her – and it’s sexy. Thinking now, Jemma has a vague resemblance of this name being mentioned by Sue, but she doesn’t know exactly what.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jemma”, she extends her hand and Victoria takes it, a bit amused with something.

“You Brits are so polite”, she lets out this quiet chuckle, “so what brings you here, Jemma?”

“Skye”

“So you’re her new plaything, I get it”, she rolls her eyes, smirk still firm in place.

“Excuse me?”, very, very rude! Americans…

“You’re still in honeymoon phase, I assume – everything’s perfect, Skye’s sweet and charming and the sex’s wonderful”, Jemma gasps inaudibly to the woman’s blatant comment, “but she’s going to get tired, and then it stops being fun. Then she breaks your heart – just because, you know, she got sick of it”, pure ire builds up in Jemma’s insides. She grasps onto her self-control.

“And how do you know all of this?”, Jemma can’t help but frown.

“Oh!”, Victoria smiles mischievously, “she hasn’t told you! You’re worse off than I assumed, kitten. I’m the ex-girlfriend”, Jemma was about to check her phone, in the hopes she’d interrupt the conversation, but Skye steps into the stage and, judging by the horrified look that’s briefly on her face when she looks in Jemma’s direction, it is true.

 

“What did you say to her?”, Skye corners Victoria in a hidden spot of the venue, grabbing the woman’s suit collar forcefully.

“Calm down, kitten, I know you like it rough, but don’t ruin my Chanel. It’s made to measure, you know?”, and she throws her head to the side noncommittally and grins.

“What. did. you. say. to. her. Victoria?”, Skye’s literally baring her teeth at Victoria, who finds it amusing, of course.

“The truth, of course. The girl has the right to know what she’s getting into”, very matter of factly tone, very irritating.

“For your information, she’s not my fling, she’s my assistant, and she doesn’t need input from my bitter ex-girlfriend”

“Your assistant? Skye, we both know that’s not true. You’re either fucking her, or you’re very close to it”, Victoria straightens her face and raises her eyebrows once, as if she was adding ‘and you know I’m right, so stop the bullshit’. Skye remains quiet, “You know you’re going to get tired, and you’re going to toss her aside. It’s what you are – it’s what we are. The only difference with me is that I got tired first. But face it, Skye: we’re the same”, Skye breathes audibly, but she can’t utter a word because, deep down, she’s convinced Victoria is right.

“Whatever you say, Victoria, just don’t get near her again”, she says, as threateningly as she can manage, which is not much because Victoria won, hands down. As in, game, set and match.

The rest of the night’s tone is underlied by Victoria’s affirmations, with Skye still trying to be sweet to Jemma – a promise is a promise –, but not daring to get close. When they get to their room, Skye leaves Jemma in her room and, instead of the intense kiss the girl was expecting (and she’d totally have given, should that conversation never happened), Skye gives her a chaste kiss, and wishes her good night. To say Jemma is confused is an understatement – she’s utterly bewildered, and cursing the moment Victoria sat down next to her (little does she know…).

 

The next day, Jemma answers the phone groggily in the morning.

“Dr. Simmons? This is Dr. Watson, we spoke earlier about the terrible incident in the medicine building”, she jumps from the bed.

“Yes, yes, I remember. What can I do for you, Dr. Watson?”

“We have recovered the equipment lost in the fire and we’d been studying the possibility of allowing you to continue your work. It would be incredibly valuable for the scientific community, if you did, but this should come as no surprise to you”, she can’t believe her ears – she’d get her life back.

“I would love to!”, she can’t barely contain her excitement.

“Splendid! We’re waiting for you to come in tomorrow morning”

“Tomorrow? I don’t think I can make it, I’m at the other side of the country, and I’m only coming back in two weeks”

“We talked to your previous employer – she assured you could come in tomorrow”, he sounds puzzled.

“Can I get back to you on that, Dr. Watson? In an hour, perhaps”

“Sure”

“Thank you”, she hangs up hurriedly, and opens the door to her own bedroom to search for Skye. The girl’s nowhere to be found. Instead, on the table, there’s an envelope with a month’s worth of payment, as well as first class tickets back home. Dated for tonight.

Unbelievable.

 

Skye unlocks the door to her hotel room drenched in sadness – ugh, this is so sappy. She closes it behind her distractedly and leans against it, with her eyes closed. She sighs – this was the right choice. It’s only after all of these moments that she notices Jemma Simmons sitting on a chair facing the door, legs cross and a deadly look on her face.

It takes a moment for Skye to register. Jemma stands up and walks slowly towards her.

“Wha… What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in that plane”, she finally stops very close to the girl, and smiles at her confusion.

“No, I’m not. I’m supposed to be here, with you”, Skye’s torn – there’s this amazing girl that really wants to be with her, that she wants very much, and there’s only one possible outcome: her breaking this girl’s heart.

“Jemma, just go, okay – I… we can’t do this anymore”, Skye finally musters the ‘right’ decision.

“Why?”, Jemma shoots, serious.

“Because I’m trouble, okay? I break people’s hearts! I’m like, super good at it and I can’t promise I won’t do the same to you”, Skye’s yelling in desperation, and her breathing becomes shallow.

“I don’t care, Skye. I don’t care how bad you say you are”, Jemma backs her into the door, gazing her intensely, “Can we not think about this now? Can you please let me be thrilled by how amazing was what you did?”

“What happened to ‘please don’t break my heart’?”, Skye asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m afraid my heart doesn’t have much of a say in this”, whoa, “so the only thing I need to know from you is: my room or yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! You go Jemma! Get your claws out, honey, and go get your girl!  
> Those of you who wanted sweet Skye, I feel like I drowned you all in it, with this chapter :D But Skye's super coward and that's irritating me (and Jemma), so that's a downside. But even being a coward, she's super cute, so that's that.
> 
> One thing I really liked was to disrupt this image that Skye (and I'd say most of us) has that Jemma's super sweet and tender and doesn't masturbate (already proven wrong, btw), so what better way of doing it than making her reaction to Skye being all sweetheart-y be "I fucking want to jump your bones". You know, like a normal person :P (that's open to interpretation, I guess, but at least one that has sexual fantasies about her boss/something).
> 
> I crafted the name of next chapter already - it's 'Most definitely, not a prude' (it had to go full circle, right?)
> 
> Super-important (okay, not quite, but importantish) comments:  
> 1\. Victoria Hand's out of character, I know; that's because for me, she should behave like Alex Vause (Orange is the New Black), but I didn't want to import a character from another fandom and since they kind of share a couple of features, I went full Vause on her and called her Victoria. Bah, it was fun :)  
> 2\. Victoria's 'kitten' I stole from plinys (because I loved it!), so if you're plinys and you feel offended, feel free to yell at me and I'll change it - but then again, you might as well not feel offended, because it's almost an homage (it's a stealthy one) :D  
> 3\. Turns out my gala plans weren't that ruined :) Maybe I should try and plan something next time... nah, just kidding... :P
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter :D I'm super happy with it (especially with Vic, I think she flows rather well in this one) - thanks for the comments and the kudos, as usual :) this story's been quite a ride and I'm happy to have you all giving support and input, it's been invaluable :) Cheers, see you next time!


	12. Most definitely, not a prude

‘My room or yours?’, it echoes in Skye’s head, because even though the girl said it clearly, it wasn’t enough for Skye to register. Or process. So here they are, with Jemma pinning Skye against the door, knee relaxedly placed in between the girl’s legs, and the stare match is on. This is so completely disrupting of everything Skye thought about Jemma she can’t bring herself to react.

“Wow” is her dumb reply – which doesn’t even make sense – to the girl’s question, after an infinite amount of time holding Jemma’s… very… provocative… gaze. Skye has her eyebrows raised, and they raise even more when she notices Jemma’s lips turning into a smirk slowly.

“That’s your reaction? The all mighty charmer, smooth ladies girl, is really paralysed? And lost her tongue? That’s one plot twist I particularly wasn’t expecting” Jemma teases. Skye opens her mouth to protest, but the thought is vaporised from her brain as Jemma covers Skye’s lips with her own. Skye’s quick to undo the girl’s ponytail and grab a handful of hair, while the other hand, it just goes down very quickly – because she’s been dying to cop a feel since, well, the first time she’d seen Jemma in short shorts.

Jemma leans even closer, effectively pressing all of her body against Skye’s, pulls the girl’s waist on top of her knee and unceremoniously grinds it up against Skye’s jeans. The fast pace is reflected on the kiss, which grows more aggressive, more desperate. Skye breaks it after a while, rests her head on the door and moans. She opens her eyes to face Jemma’s devilish, satisfied grin, possibly one grin that would stay in her mind for quite some time.

Jemma sees Skye’s very exposed neck as an opportunity, and almost violently sinks her teeth into the side of it, making Skye release an audible gasp, followed by a breathy moan. She distances herself from Skye’s hips, undoes the button of her jeans, and is able to lower them to her knees. She then teasingly caresses the girl’s knickers, just to feel their drenched state. Indeed, drenched they are – actually, Jemma’s almost impressed they haven’t simply dissolved by this point.

She takes a moment to lock gaze with the girl, whose heavy breath and gaped mouth are evidencing the thoughts. Skye pulls Jemma’s head closer and bites the girl’s lower lip, then whispers ‘fuck me’ hoarsely – Jemma needn’t be told twice.

Jemma strokes hard and fast, as she kisses Skye and appreciates the hot liquid dripping to the palm of her hand. Skye’s completely distracted, completely against the door and completely unaware of how much she’s moaning, to Jemma’s delight. The growing moans make her enthusiastically increase the pace, even though her wrist’s getting tired from the over bend. With her last effort, she increases the strength of the strokes and Skye arches her back.

Oh, but wait, she’s so not done. Not nearly close to it.

She knees, and brings the girl’s knickers down, gently taking a first lick and appreciating the taste. Then another, a longer, that goes from the clitoris to the end of her entrance – just to swipe the dripping liquid. She plays around in this fashion for a while, because it’s so much better than all the times she fantasised about it, it deserves full treasuring. However, Skye’s whimpers whenever she removed her tongue from the hot flesh grew convincing and soon she turned her focus to pleasuring the girl.

At this point, Skye has to admit: dating a girl with a couple of PhDs in biology is the best idea she’s ever had. Fucking tongue ability, Jemma has. The girl sets Skye off by a particularly well placed change of pace, and surface roughness – she frowns in disbelief as she recognises the signs of the orgasm.

“Already? I was just getting started!” Jemma protests and stands up. Skye gives her an incredulous look – at least tries to; she’s still a bit out of it.

“By all means, don’t let me interrupt you.” Jemma chuckles and gives the girl a sweet kiss, “but, bedroom?”

“Definitely.”

After they’re both lying down, and she’s ready to go on. She takes one more of those long, teasing licks, and visibly rolls her tongue inside her mouth with her eyes closed, exaggerating her tasting, “You taste… so… good.”

Skye never, ever thought she’d ask someone to stop because she needs to rests from all the orgasms she had – until now. But it has to be done, otherwise she’s worried she might pass out from utter exhaustion. And that’d be a shame, since she sincerely wishes they’ll have a long night ahead of them.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” Skye still feels the haze from the last one, and apparently, it isn’t going anywhere soon.

“Your moaning is… very motivational.” Jemma strokes Skye’s cheek and smirks. Skye takes a moment to register – this Jemma that’s smiling adorably at her now is the same girl that’s been eating her out for the past two hours. Who, in turn, is the same girl that pressed her against the wall and fucked her real good. And is the same dorky, poorly dressed geek Skye deemed too little for her once.

Stereotypes are a bitch.

“I can’t say I’m not impressed. Where did you learn all that?” Skye says, trying hard to catch her breath.

“Fanfiction.”

“Really?”

“No.” and Jemma laughs adorably, in a way that stuns Skye into a small grin. “We barely even started and you’re already complimenting me. I’m… surprised.” Jemma smirks. Skye blushes, and Jemma has to resist commenting about it. She doesn’t really want to push her luck.

“Come here and help me out of those clothes, will you?” Jemma says as she kneels on the bed and starts undoing her first button. She’s interrupted by Skye eagerly jumping up, despite her own orgasm haze, and getting her buttons. Skye looks at Jemma as she removes the sleeves of her button down – the girl has this adorable habit of biting her lower lip when aroused, and she’s doing it again. Fuck. Her eyes dart from Jemma’s lips to her eyes and things sure seem slower. She can’t bloody resist it: she gently grabs a handful of hair and kisses Jemma. Who, of course, kisses her back.

Skye doesn’t really know how they went from banging against the door to this slow, almost poetic rhythm. What is entirely more surprising is how she finds that she absolutely doesn’t mind the delicate contact of their lips and tongues, and she’s not freaking out by what it means. She’s just letting it happen, gladly.

The pull back is equally paced, and it takes some time for Skye to open her eyes again. When she does, her hand is still on the side of Jemma’s neck, and she instinctively caresses it. Jemma’s smiling at her, with that heartwarming smile of hers. It’s only natural that a second kiss, longer, but with the same charge of emotion, follows. And a third.

Jemma can’t say she’s not surprised. The rockstar didn’t touch her bra, or made any attempt to turn up the sexuality of the situation. Yes, she roamed her hand through Jemma’s naked back, but it wasn’t hungrily. It was… sweet – God forbid Skye would ever realise that. God forbid Skye’d realise how incredibly aroused Jemma became with her lack of hurry. And how she needed – desperately – to speed things up.

Well, she certainly didn’t, because she spends every bit of a cruel forever nibbling Jemma’s ear. And biting her neck, and sucking on the skin near her breasts. Jemma’s breath is shallow – it was already, thirty minutes ago –, she hisses louder when the girl comes in contact with her skin, in what seem a genuine attempt to drive her insane. It is bloody working.

“Skye…” she can’t bring herself to beg properly. The girl’s eyes lift to hers with an almost innocent smile, which falters to leave room for a surprise. Surprise to see Jemma’s eyes darkened and dangerous. And finally, a smirk.

“What?”

“Please…” it is barely a tentative moan that escape from Jemma’s lips, but to say Skye’s satisfied is a gross understatement.

“Please what?”

“Stop torturing me.” Jemma says in a whisper, and Skye’s smirk grows even more.

“How about no?” she replies and proceeds to suck the skin of Jemma’s neck. Bloody hell. This is not going to stay this way. Politeness aside now, this is war.

“A shame, you know.” she whispers breathily and Skye looks up. Jemma runs a hand through her already dishevelled hair, gives Skye her best innocent smile and approaches her ear, “I always wanted to you to shove me into bed and have your way with me.” she can see Skye’s light shiver when her breath touches the girl’s skin.

Even if it doesn’t work, it’s worth it to see Skye’s expression of shock. And lust. And soon enough, Jemma feels her back hit the bed and her clothes being almost torn apart.

“Well, that was easy.” she says after she feels the girl’s fingers into her.

“Shut up.” Skye growls and Jemma complies, but she has this victorious smirk plastered. It doesn’t last very long, though. Jemma’s soon reduced to moans – loud ones, to Skye’s utter satisfaction –, and not much after, Skye knows the girl’s close. Very close.

So she stops.

Jemma looks up, panting and murderous. Skye smirks adorably at her. “You sincerely didn’t see that coming? Or you not coming?” she chuckles at her own bad pun. She curls her fingers inside Jemma to tease her further.

“You are infuriating!” 

“I am. But you knew that already.” she pecks Jemma. She restarts her movements painfully slow, Jemma still looking at her with mild irritation. “You know, that was one of my fantasies. Giving you a good. Raw. Fuck.” she says it lowly, eyes fixated on Jemma, and intensifies her pace. “I never thought you’d be the one asking for it.” she nears Jemma’s mouth. “It’s fucking hot.” she says hoarsely.

Jemma mirrors Skye’s smirk for a second, before a moan wipes it away. She pulls Skye closer and closes her eyes. “Don’t even think about it.” she says and Skye chuckles.

“I wouldn’t.” and she speeds up, finally to feel the clench of Jemma’s inner muscles around her fingers. She smirks as she removes her hand and lays besides Jemma. “Not two times in a row, that’s just too horrible. Even for me.”

Jemma playfully snorts.

“You are beautiful.” Skye can’t really stop herself from saying. Jemma pulls her close, and into a kiss.

“So are you, even though I really shouldn’t say that to your conceited self.”

“Hey!” Skye objects in mock hurt. “Meh, what am I saying, you’re right.” she wrinkles her nose and earns a chuckle from Jemma. “However, my conceited self still has plenty of work to do.” Jemma narrows her eyes in confusion. “What? You didn’t expect me to let you out-orgasm me, did you? Especially by four!”

“You can’t be serious.” Jemma gaps. “And are you keeping score?” the conclusion sounds even worse when said out loud. She just shakes her head in disapproval. “That’s a whole new level of childish.”

“Well, you might just find you like how… childish I am.” Skye says in Jemma’s ear. The girl opens her mouth to protest, but Skye hushes her with an index finger. Then she does that signature thing of hers: the eye lock and an honest, small grin. Jemma suddenly is very conscious of her own breathing, of Skye’s weight on top of her, of those brown ones. “Maybe that’s not the only reason.” she says, her voice very quiet.

And she leaves it at that, leaning in to a passionate kiss. One Jemma never would expect and was certain at the same time. Because it was always there, in those stupid brown eyes.

“Skye!” the room came to focus again. A table. Big table. Suited people. Charts – ugh, charts. Damn, she zoned out at the fucking meeting. Again. More infuriating: the fucking meeting wasn’t over. It’s been more than… half an hour! That’s unacceptable.

“I’m sorry.” she mustered, not really meaning it. It must be the millionth time she says that to this particular group of people. She skims through the slides and notes. Right, this sounds acceptable, her tired brain quickly concludes. She looks forward and sees all the expectant eyes directed to her. There’s fear in the air. “I don’t see any problems.” she frowns, mostly at their reactions.

“This is a surprise, I suppose.” one man says nervously. “A pleasant one.”

“Wait, why?” she asks before going through the notes again. Before someone can properly reply, she finds it. “Oh, joint interview with Vic.” she offers and the weak confirmation nods spread through the room. She braces herself for the sentiment that usually haunts the name in her head. And there it is, lingering. She purses her lips and her breath quickens. All eyes are on her. And her own eyes are… 

On the wall clock. The one that’s not melting.

Erroneously not melting, that is.

She can’t help but smile, then notice the feeling is dissolving.

Unlike the bloody wall clock. She chuckles. “Well, let’s do it.”

“It is settled!” top executive claps. “Have a good lunch, everyone!” Lunch! Right! She unlocks her phone.

“What are you having for lunch?” Skye texts. The reply comes quickly.

“Indian food. And my boss, probably. Highly likely.” she chuckles and takes a deep breath shortly after, to try and contain the jolt of raw lust. At least for a couple of minutes.

“Make that certainly. See you in ten.” she texts back quickly, smug smile plastered. Then she looks to the side and notices the store windows. And she can’t really help the grin that creeps her face.

“You’re late.” Jemma points out annoyed when she hears the door open.

“I am. But I bought you something!” Skye sounds overly enthusiastic, and Jemma can’t help but be curious, and alarmed. Mostly alarmed. The girl puts the box on the table, and Jemma shoots glances at both the grinning rockstar and it. Suspicious, much? “It’s not going to bite you. I might, though.”

“Might? May I remind you…” and she shows the bruises on her neck.

“I’m not sorry you’re so hot.” she pecks Jemma’s cheek, and the girl turns to give her a kiss. And another. “C’mon, open it! I’m curious about your reaction!” Skye parts and hops excitedly. Jemma can’t help but get more suspicious. But she does as told.

“A clock?”

“A melting clock!” Skye beams.

“You didn’t strike me as a Dali fan.” Jemma narrows her eyes.

“Huge fan. Of surreal things. Huge.” Skye continues to stare at her with this grin. “Like you!”

“Excuse me?” now Jemma was a shade of plain angry.

“Listen, I was bored out of my mind at this meeting, and I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday, and how… wow. I wasn’t expecting that. Totally wasn’t.” Skye fumbles and Jemma merely arches an eyebrow. “But that’s awesome. You know, like this melting clock, that’s much cooler than a normal clock – because nobody’s expecting it to melt! You get my drill?”

“No.”

“Right. This is hard.” Skye pauses. Her eyes dart everywhere and she’s clearly nervous. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… all this time I kind of thought the idea of a clock so boring. Predictable. And a bit plain. A bit like I saw you, a couple of months ago.” Skye takes a breath and Jemma tilts her head. “And fuck, melting… It kind of makes you snap your attention back at it. And reconsider. And then you look again, and suddenly it’s not plain. It’s kind of fascinating.” she finishes.

“Is this your convoluted way of saying that I surprised you?” Jemma asks, amused. Skye frowns. “Convoluted means complicated, basically.” she clarifies.

“Oh, right. No, no, more like fascinated.” she says, not fully realising the implications. Obviously, it gets to her quickly enough, and she looks a bit terrified. Jemma reaches for her hand and takes it, smiling.

“Your ramble about the clock was terrible.” Jemma says, looking into the girl’s eyes. She chuckles as she notices the frown. “But even so, I somehow still think you’re adorable. And a bit fascinating yourself.” she stares into the girl’s brown eyes and notices the blush and the happy grin. “Don’ get me started on how hot that makes me.” she mumbles, but the reply smirk tells her Skye heard her just fine.

The girl stands up, still smirking, eyes never leaving Jemma’s, and straddles her. She leans very close to the girl’s lips. “So, lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is a wrap! We finally went full circle with this story, and I'm strangely happy about how it ended. Thank you all of you that kept me going, believe it or not, every kudos and comment counts to make an author proud.
> 
> To those of you that wanted me to continue this, I'm sorry. I can see, yes, the possibility for a continuation of the plot, but I'd much rather make a sequel for it, should it be the case. Then I could pick it up from where I left and open yet another conflict.


End file.
